


The Exception is You

by Dana



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, CAPTCHA From Hell, Dubious Consent, Gavin Has Self Worth Issues And Doesn't Think He Deserves Anything Nice, Gavin Reed Isn't A Complete Asshole, Gavin Reed has a cat, I Plan On Writing A Sequel!, I'm sure I'll still forget something lol, Just tagging everything at the start so nothing gets forgotten, M/M, Minor Birthday Angst, Nines Isn't Good At Emotions But He's Working On It, Oral Sex, Post-Game, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Rimming, Sex Virus Made Them Do It, The explicit stuff happens in chapter 4, Threesome, angsty ending but it isn't the end of the world, emotions are hard, not a super happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: A reminder from the universe to one Gavin Reed, that his actions have consequences.  And yeah, that sucks.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Gavin Reed/RK900
Comments: 23
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an experiment to write reed900 that was less soft than the normal stuff I post. It is complete! I just don't know if I want to post it in 3 parts or 4. I started working on it in November of 2018, lmao talk about me working on my backlog! There's a lot more to this little 'verse I'd like to do (three to four more stories), but first things first. The tags are maybe a little ominous? Thanks to Iocane for the beta, and other awesome stuff like general handholding since posting makes me super anxious!

'Oh for fuck's sake, I was supposed to leave early today!'

Gavin isn't whining, he's hardly even raising his voice, but the look Fowler shoots him says _plenty_ , specifically, _shut your goddamn mouth, Reed_ , so Gavin shuts his goddamn mouth. He huffs as he folds his arms across his chest, and even though he knows he's acting like a brat, that doesn't actually stop him from rolling his eyes.

'Look,' and Gavin could but he doesn't say _it's my birthday!_ , because it's not like anyone actually cares, he gets that, okay. 'Why can't I just search this guy's place tomorrow?'

'Reed, you know the material is time sensitive, I shouldn't have to remind you. One man is dead already.'

'Exactly, so why can't I just search his shit tomorrow?'

'Reed–'

'Sorry, _place_.'

True to form, Fowler levels one more unimpressed glare at him, lip peeling back in a sneer, and Gavin fucking _seethes_ , jaw clenching in irritation. When Fowler goes on, it's with that one specific _tone_ of his, the one that makes Gavin feel like he's being talked down to like a fucking child. '...just put on your big boy pants and go do your job, Reed – Nines is already waiting on you, so get to work.'

Yep, just like a fucking child. Which was incredibly reminiscent as fuck of Gavin being assigned Nines as his partner in the first place, ie, Gavin not having any real choice in the matter. It had been a whole lotta the same, just listen to the Captain already, Fowler Knows Best, here's your new partner! Oh and by the way he's an upgraded toaster who will gladly kick your ass if you look at him funny – but fuck that memory, fuck everything.

'Oh _whatever_.'

So, instead of giving Fowler the finger, Gavin grumbles to himself as he lets the glass door to Fowler's office close just a little too hard. Gavin makes a beeline towards his desk to grab his jacket – his disciplinary folder hasn't ended up as thick as Hank's, it isn't even kind of as close. Gavin hasn't actually fucked his career over yet, that promotion he's been eyeballing for the last five years is still waiting for him, it's still within reach.

Still, fuck Fowler, and fuck everyone else. Maybe it's his own fault no one cares that it's his birthday, but he doesn't have to be happy about it, okay?

And fuck Nines, too. (God, he'd _like_ to – yeah, like there's a chance in hell of that ever happening, _ha_.)

Gavin's partner, the cause of so many of his frustrations, is already waiting for him in the parking garage, standing beside the unmarked car they've been assigned. Nines is standing primly, arms tucked behind his back. The collar of his white jacket is flared and vaguely mindful of his old CyberLife uniform. It probably has something to do with the colors or the patterns but Gavin doesn't feel like dissecting it, his passion is _not_ design. Still, the jacket goes so perfectly well with the sleek black turtleneck Nines happens to be wearing, those skinny jeans that fit him like a fucking glove, the trim little boots that would probably only too happily kick Gavin's ass. All Gavin can do is scowl at Nines's annoyingly toned chest. His perfectly sculpted face. Gavin doesn't get it, why did they have to make him so _pretty_? With the freckles, and the mole, and the hair that looks so fucking _soft_? Like, the amount of times Gavin has considered shoving a hand into it just to see how soft it really is… well, it's an appalling amount, that's what it is.

Of course, telling Nines just how good looking he finds him – yeah, fuck that, _nope_ , that's not about to happen, not now, not ever. He knows where he stands.

Still, Gavin saunters over towards Nines like the absolute shit he feels like being, reaching into his own jacket for his pack of cigarettes. 'You drive, I'll smoke.'

It's a joke, see – the car's autonomous, it drives itself, but those icy blue eyes of Nines's stare impassively as Gavin lights his cigarette. Nines's LED is serene, his voice impassive, 'I shouldn't have to remind you what a bad habit smoking is, but I'd gladly quote statistics.'

'Yeah, how about you not?'

'It's a bad habit, Detective. You really should work harder to quit.'

Gavin huffs, he's heard it all before, and it's not quite in one ear and out the other but it sure as hell is close. It's something he's in control of, for better or worse. Nines, an android, a _deviant_ , should get _that_.

Then he throws Nines a wink, he's back on his bullshit again and he knows he's being a fucking brat. 'Maybe if you gave me some sort of incentive, I'd consider it.' Cheerily, he blows smoke across the roof of the car. 'So, until then, why don't you shut the fuck up?'

The LED blips yellow-then-red, so quickly Gavin might have imagined it. And then, in that voice of his that's always frustratingly steady, Nines says, 'Very well, Detective,' and leaves it at that.

On top of everything else, fuck _Nines_ for being a stone cold bastard, and fuck Gavin for caring about it as much as he does. Insulting Nines had never been as fun as it could have been, not when Nines gave no indication that Gavin's words bothered him – eventually, it turned into some sort of chore, and Gavin was too bored to continue keeping it up… because it was a chore. Duh. Recently, though – for some stupid fucking reason that not even Gavin's sure of, and he's the one who thought it up – he's decided that if anything can crack that ice cold demeanor of his partner's, it'll have to be one of his horribly bad jokes.

So far, he's had no luck.

'I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show up,' Nines says, looking down his nose at Gavin (sometimes, those three inches Nines has on him really pisses Gavin off). Nines opens the door, ready to take his seat. 'Shall we depart? Connor should already be on scene.'

Gavin groans as he opens the driver's side door. It there's anything worse than being stuck working late on his _birthday_ with one of his unfunny as fuck android co-workers, it's being stuck with both of them. Well, at least Connor knows how to smile, and if Gavin pokes at him hard enough, Connor pokes back.

'Sure, whatever.'

He turns the music on, turns the music up, and Nines connects remotely with the stereo to turn it down to what he thinks is a 'more appropriate level, unless you want to lose your hearing before you turn forty'. It's a slap in the face, because it's Gavin's birthday today, and Nines is his partner, Nines hasn't said anything, Nines should _know_.

So, 'Fuck you,' Gavin mutters, but Nines says absolutely nothing in return, and Gavin turns his attention onto something else – only, he's still thinking about Nines, as he continues to smoke his cigarette, letting the smoke out through the cracked open window. As they drive along in relative silence, he thinks about why Nines was made the way he was – he's gotten a little out of his partner about it since they first started working together, about how he was designed for active combat, how even working as a detective is beneath him, how there'd have been 200,000 of his units if things had gone a little differently, a veritable fucking army. And it seems pretty sad, if Gavin's gonna be honest about it – that they didn't program him to laugh, or smile, or anything like that.

See, where Connor is a kitten, Nines is a fucking jaguar. Like, right now, he's gazing at Gavin dispassionately – seriously, he's got resting bitch face down pat, Gavin approves. But he can't imagine living a life like that, distant and cold. Sure, Gavin's a fuck up – he's always been a fuck up – but at least he's alive.

Right? He goes to work, and he goes home, and he sleeps in late when he can, and he likes to play with his cat Flapjack. Maybe his life is just as pathetic as Nines's is, but hey, it works for him, that's all that fucking matters.

Nines… what is Nines, really? Gavin doesn't know. Maybe Nines is just as clueless as he is, there's just no telling. Attempts at small talk are usually painful, like he's having dental work done and someone forgot the anesthetics, that level of painful. Still doesn't stop Gavin from trying, because he wants to know his partner, wants to understand him.

Nines is deviant but he doesn't always act like he is. But if it works for him, why does it bother Gavin as much as it does? Gavin wishes he knew why he cared about that, specifically.

'We have arrived at our destination, Detective.'

'Thanks, Siri, I hadn't noticed.'

The destination is a high rise that's only a few years old, home to two dozen different small indie companies all vying to make their mark on the world, or at least on Detroit – Connor, Nines calmly informs him, is waiting for them on the fourteenth floor. The victim from one of their open cases, a very dead man by the name of Blake Hall, used to work for CyberLife, but after CyberLife went belly up he'd started a snazzy little business of his own, doing neural mods for interested androids.

Of course, that was before someone ended up shooting the guy in the head and dumping his body in the trunk of an abandoned car. He was a loner so no one realized he was missing for about a week, and when they found him… Well, it had been unexpectedly warm for the season, Gavin won't ever forget that stink.

Nines had found plenty of fishy stuff on Hall's phone, and his home laptop as well, top secret files and schematics for decommissioned models, things collectors would pay a lot of money to own – neural mods, right. This guy was into some really skeevy shit. And one of those things, clearly it had played a big ass part in getting the bastard killed.

Of course, it's just tech bullshit, Gavin doesn't actually know why Fowler needs him here, too – it's not like the Doublemint Twins are going to need his help, they're the ones who can interface with machines and actually care about what's going on. Which is – not exactly fair, on Gavin's part. He does care, else he wouldn't be here. But it's a little more complicated than that. He knows a big part of it comes down to is that it's just some dumb PC bullshit from the department formerly known as HR, and one of the reasons Nines got dumped on Gavin in the first place – two wildly different perspectives, two drastically different ways of going about the job, because as impossible as it might seem, there's things that Nines might actually fucking miss and things that Gavin isn't actually a total fuck-up at while doing. Gavin probably shouldn't actually complain, since Nines getting a job meant he got to keep his. Ah, fuck.

It's not like it's all that terrible. Nines has proven to be a really good partner, but it's not like Gavin had expected anything else – Nines is frustratingly perfect, for the most part, and sure that grates on Gavin's nerves, mostly, only sometimes… it doesn't? What surprises him, mostly, is Nines having stuck around long enough for Gavin to actually get _used_ to him, for them to get into a habit of bantering in their own way – of course, on Nines's side of things, it's always so fucking emotionless, since CyberLife noped out of thinking they should program a better range of emotional nuances into his voice box.

Still, Nines had stuck around, and Gavin… Well, he's not used to that sort of thing happening. He's had plenty of partners skip out on him because of his disagreeable moods, but Nines hadn't actually been bothered by any of that, no, just dealt with them as they came and made it a non-issue. Sometimes that meant they tried talking about things. Well, Nines tried asking Gavin what was bothering him, and Gavin deflected it however he needed to because he didn't _talk_ about that sort of shit, what the fuck was wrong with Nines, really? When it came down to it at last, Gavin had thrown the first punch, but Nines had quickly manhandled him about and knocked him back into the wall – didn't have to hit him, no, just level those pale blue eyes of his at Gavin and tell him what a disappointment his attitude had become. And yay, that was the first time his ice cold partner had left him unintentionally hard as fucking rock, and the worst part of it was? Since Nines was such a nosy fucker, always scanning him, always analyzing his vitals, Gavin knew that Nines _knew_.

(Later that night, it would definitely _not_ be the first time he'd ever jerked one off while he was thinking of Nines. But he was just that fucked up, it couldn't be helped.)

And for whatever fucked up reason, he seemed pretty damn intent on remaining Gavin's partner, even before Gavin started to go easy on him. Well, easier. Ha. Like it wasn't Nines who wasn't going easier on _him_.

And yeah, that probably means something, but Gavin's not sure what.

'God, this fucking sucks. Who did I fucking insult to have to work this sort of shitty crime scene on my birthday?'

Nines doesn't say anything, just continues standing to his side, low music playing as the elevator, slow but steadily, climbs towards the fourteenth floor.

Gavin huffs, shaking his head. 'You and Connor aren't even going to need me here, I should just go.'

'I'd rather not report you to Captain Fowler for acting so petty, Detective,' Nines reprimands him with an unneeded sigh. 'Are you really all that bothered by working on your birthday?'

Gavin blinks, taken aback. 'I… of fucking course? Why wouldn't I?'

'As an android, I haven't an equivalent.'

Gavin frowns. 'Well, what about your activation day? Doesn't that hold some sort of significance?' Fuck, is Gavin going to have to explain the concept of birthdays to his Terminator bot – 

'The day I first activated,' Nines begins, and he seems...softer? than usual, 'I attempted to forcibly deactivate Connor. It… is not something I wish to celebrate.'

'Ah… well. Fuck.' Gavin shifts from one foot to the other, nervously. Everything he knows about Nines, sometimes he feels like it won't ever be enough. But he knows how close the two RK bots are, and the confession hits somewhere deep inside. 'Sorry?'

'It's quite alright, Detective – you couldn't have known.' And – and this is some sort of first – Nines smiles at him, very, very gently. 'Connor has let me know that Lieutenant Anderson hates celebrating his birthday, and I had foolishly assumed this to be true of all humans. I should have at least asked you to see if you felt differently… by the time we finish here, I'm sure it will be too late to do anything on such short notice, but perhaps tomorrow after work I might take you out to dinner?'

'I… uh…' Gavin wonders if this is what having a stroke feels like, but no, even though his heart is suddenly beating out of control, and he's blushing, it probably wouldn't feel so pleasant. His chest has gone somewhat tight and his face is seriously warm.

He likes Nines, of course he likes Nines, but it isn't like _that_.

...right?

Nines almost looks concerned, as Gavin continues to fumble for words. Still, Nines's voice is steady and cool as he says, 'Detective?'

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Gavin quickly forces a smile. 'Uh, yeah, Nines. That'd be really cool.' Cool? Fucking amazing.

That same fluttery little smile lights up Nines's lips. 'Yes, wonderful. I…' He lifts a hand up, his fingers brushing at his lips. 'I had begun to worry you might have been startled by my smile, I'm glad to see it isn't so.'

Gavin blinks, hard, taken aback. 'Like… why would that even be a thing?'

'My first attempts were rather… frightening.' He makes a breathless little sound, it's almost a laugh. 'Connor has been helping me practice, I'm… glad, you found it to be suitably... Pleasing?'

Maybe he hadn't been programmed for that sort of thing, but Nines could still learn, and – and that made Gavin's heart thump-thump, a little too hard, a little too close to out of control, God Nines wanting to _please_ him. Of course, then he's thinking of the two androids practice smiling at each other, and he has to bite his cheek to stop himself from breaking out into helpless little giggles. 'Uh, yeah, of course. Pleasing? It was just fucking fine, Nines, don't even worry about it.'

'Thank you, Detective.' But as Nines turns away and resumes his usual demeanor, Gavin feels an inexplicable pang of disappointment – something he wants to poke and prod at, and yet, he hesitates. Nines could break him in two if he wanted, but Nines probably likes him a lot more than Gavin's ever actually thought.

The elevator comes to a gentle stop – the doors chime, and then slide open, and Nines sighs as he takes a step forward. 'Ah, good – the fourteenth floor. I hope Connor doesn't think we've gotten lost.'

Gavin blinks after him, feeling a little lost, himself, before jogging to catch up.

–  
–

Connor is his annoyingly chipper self (which is really only chipper when you put him side by side with Nines, who emotes like a sack of potatoes, alright). It's definitely weird seeing him at a crime scene without Hank being around, but Gavin doesn't know if he feels like pointing that out yet – how much of a jerk is he feeling like, you know?

Nines isn't the only one who's given up on wearing his CyberLife uniform. Connor did too, and has started wearing more and more casual button downs, and sometimes – like today – he wears a blazer. He still accessorizes with ties, and some of them are pretty fucking atrocious (again, like the one he's wearing today). It's kind of like Connor's picked up some of Hank's bad fashion habits – you know, just enough to make Gavin feel like he's going to puke.

Speak of the fucking devil (yeah, Gavin does actually feel like being a jerk). 'So, where's the old man?' he asks, and CyberLife really did a bang up job with him, because how exactly was it possible for Connor to look both scathingly furious as well as infuriatingly polite at the same damn time? It was legitimately impressive.

Connor's tone is brittle without being actively hostile. 'The Lieutenant left earlier today for a conference in Los Angeles, he won't be returning until Monday, late.'

'Ah,' Gavin huffs, smirking, 'so you two aren't actually connected at the hip?'

'Detective, please,' and hey, they did a bangup job with Nines in their own way, too, because Gavin's just playfully teasing Connor, for fuck's sake – come on, they all know the difference – but Gavin's pretty damn sure Nines might actually rip out his spine, even though his tone is placid as fucking hell.

That shouldn't be fucking hot, but oh well – Gavin's never really been _right_.

'Right, whatever. So, tell me, did the refrigerator have anything to say?'

Connor sighs, and Nines puts a hand on Gavin's shoulder, squeezes none too gently. 'Gavin, please. Take a seat, why don't you? You should play one of the games you have installed on your phone, at least until we finish up here.'

Gavin holds back the soft hiss of pain because he's not giving Nines that sort of satisfaction. 'Yeah, whatever, I get it,' he shrugs away from Nines, who surprisingly enough lets him go, 'I'm not wanted, I'll go, jeez, it's almost like it I shouldn't have even come here in the first place!'

But he's pretty much getting exactly what he wanted, even if he's not going to get away with actually _leaving_. Connor and Nines can go scour the fucking office and leave him in relative peace. Gavin sits down, and he pulls out his phone – there's no active WiFi, and his data is acting like shit, so instead of loading up one of his more resource intensive games, he brings up his photo app instead. Ends up scrolling through what is mostly just endless pictures of Flapjack, with a scattering of videos from when a still frame just wouldn't cut it.

God, it's been a long ass week, Gavin just wants it to be over already. Let him drown his misery in peace. Get drunk, maybe get laid. He honestly doesn't ask for too much, not that the people he associated most with would think that of him. No, he's a bossy, argumentative jerk, arrogant as all get out and all he cares about is keeping his job, and climbing through the ranks. It's the person he wants to be at work, the only part of himself he actually cares to share.

Of course, now the two androids aren't even talking at all – it's the silence that catches his attention, the absolute lack of any sound above the soft hum of the air conditioning. Gavin sneaks a few peeks at them, and catches Connor's LED flashing yellow, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Well, fuck the both of them, talk about being rude. Gavin knows they're talking about him, they have to be talking about him – or else they want him to _think_ they are, the pair of absolute shits.

Well, two – no, three can play that game. Gavin goes back to ignoring them, just like that.

–  
–

'I believe we might need your assistance, Detective,' Nines tells him, stepping up beside him, but Gavin's already jerked upright out of his light doze because holy fucking hell, Nines has just scared the absolute fuck out of him.

'Fuck you!' Gavin shouts, dropping his phone onto the desk before standing up (he's pretty amazed he hadn't dropped it already, actually, seeing as he'd been so bored out his mind he'd _fallen asleep_ ), getting right up in Nines's frustratingly attractive face. 'What did I tell you about being so fucking quiet all the time?'

Nines blinks, slowly. 'I honestly don't see what the problem is, Detective – it wasn't my silence that woke you up, after all, I was talking to you quite directly?' His expression is absolutely complacent, which Gavin finds to be absolutely infuriating, like always. And then Nines just keeps _talking_ , like that's just something he can do. '...but as I've told you before, if you really think it necessary, you could always write a letter of complaint to CyberLife.'

'Yeah, well fuck that, you shitty toaster, CyberLife's out of business.' Gavin rubs at his eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of his brain. Fuck, everything seems upside down.

If Nines was the sort to give long, drawn out sighs, this would be the perfect place for one. Instead, his tone is clipped, cool, steady as fuck. 'Yes, Detective, that would be the point.'

'Jesus.' Gavin groans, running his hands back through his hair, trying to tame it – doesn't matter, like clockwork, you take a little nap, your hair gets all fucked up. 'Alright, so what's going on?'

'Fuck!'

Gavin turns to look at Connor at the same time as Nines, and Connor really does spend too much of his time around humans – and Hank, specifically – because he looks ashamed at his little outburst and isn't that just the _cutest_?

'Sorry – this is quite frustrating. See...'

Nines put his hand on Gavin's shoulder, lightly this time, and turns him towards the bank of monitors on the far side of the room. '...we have encountered an outdated form of CAPTCHA, and…'

Gavin stops, and blinks, then snorts, laughing. 'Oh my fucking God, I've got to see this.'

Nines could have at least rolled his eyes, but no, all he does is say, a little more passive aggressively than usual, 'obviously, otherwise I'd not have woken you. Please, follow me.' He squeezes Gavin's shoulder before he lets go, and Gavin obediently follows along – it's that or see if Nines feels like grabbing him again and then dislocating his shoulder, or something like that. Which would kind of put a damper on tomorrow night's dinner plans, since Nines is supposed to take him out to belatedly celebrate his birthday. That's… Gavin still doesn't know what to do with that, but it sure as hell feels nice.

He likes Nines, so it makes sense that Nines probably also likes him.

God.

...right?

'Alright, how can I help you out, you funky little androids?'

All it turns out to be is one of those seriously old fashioned CAPTCHAs from the early 2000s, the ones where you have to select all the sections of an image that contains a street sign or a bus before clicking on the little check box at the end (for this one, though, it's the pictures including traffic lights, but whatever, it's close enough). Connor looks close to humiliated as Gavin clicks on the little box that says 'I am not a robot', and lets out a heavy sigh.

'This is… stupid. I wasn't able to focus on the pictures, it interfered with my optic units and caused visual static as well as other distortions, and even Nines has been unable to – '

Gavin snorts – excuses, excuses. 'Yeah, whatever, just let me feel useful. For once.'

Connor sighs, shaking his head. 'Detective Reed, I honestly don't understand what you mean – Nines often tells me how insightful you can be, when it comes to figuring a crime scene out, and that he finds your partnership to be quite rewarding.'

Gavin isn't going to fall for it, but… hell yeah, he'd like to. Still, it's a pretty unexpected blow, and Gavin narrows his eyes at Connor, wary. 'Yeah, right – if it's so _rewarding_ , why isn't Nines telling me this bullshit himself?'

'Connor is better at this sort of thing than I am, Detective,' Nines replies, as unruffled as ever, though… that seems to upset him, at the same time? If the flicker of red, then yellow, from his LED is anything to go by… of course it fucking is.

And… fuck. Fuck CyberLife, fuck them forever, and Gavin balls both his hands into tight fists. Nines deserves better than what they gave him. 'Sure, okay,' he sighs. 'Come on, this computer isn't going to hack itself.'

With the security measures disabled, Connor sets his hand to the interface terminal, the flesh of his hand fading away to show the soft white of his chassis. His LED goes pure yellow, cycling rapidly, and finally, _finally_ , they're making some sort of headway. Gavin doesn't have to keep thinking about how Nines finds their partnership to be 'rewarding', they can all just focus on work. He tries to calm his breathing, tries to get his body to relax.

Connor lets out a small cry, fizzled over with static, before jolting away from the computer, the nano-skin flickers in and out in patches before it flows back into place. 'I – oh, oh. That was…' He stares at his hand, his eyes gone wide, flexing his fingers and forming a fist, then relaxing his hand as his skin begins to malfunction once more. 'It tingles?'

He's so caught up in it, he doesn't seem to notice Nines approaching him – not until Nines has taken him by the wrist, his own skin peeling back. Connor tries jerking away from him but Nines isn't letting him go – they look remarkably alike but Nines is still stronger, after all – and Connor shakes his head, his LED violently flickering back and forth between red and yellow.

'Nines, I really don't think you should have done that.'

And Gavin, well, Gavin doesn't have such a good feeling about this anymore.

Because then Nines is letting go of Connor, like he'd been zapped by some sort of electric shock, himself, his skin doing the same fucking thing, fading out and then back in, as Nines slowly clenches and unclenches his fingers. His LED's cycling from yellow to red as well, violent as fucking hell.

'Don't tell me you fucking tincans just picked up a virus?'

'If we did, then we only have you to thank for it, Detective Reed,' Nines replies coolly, and Gavin grits his teeth in utter frustration. 'You're the one who unlocked the security measures on the computer, after all.'

It's a flashback to that okay-as-its-own-thing but awful-as-an-adaption-of-a-video-game Resident Evil movie, when Michelle Rodriguez's character bitched about Kaplan being the reason the fucking zombies got out. Gavin bristles, glares, _shouts_ , 'Yeah, what the fuck ever! Don't blame me for CyberLife not making sure you pieces of fucking plastic came with working antivirus programs installed!'

Connor sighs, looking only mildly distressed. Gavin had… kind of expected a little bit more. 'There was nothing noteworthy on the computer, anyhow. I'm seriously doubting we'll find anything of use here, especially now. I think it's best we return to the station?'

'What?' Gavin almost laughs, though he feels like shouting some more. 'Just like that? You're… you're both okay, right?' Because, fuck him for it, sure, he did actually _care_. They were both pains in his asses, but they were his colleagues, too. And if something happened to either of them, Fowler would probably blame _him_.

Of course, so would Hank. And Tina. And Chris… Okay. Nines and Connor were pretty much universally beloved, but Gavin was the sack of shit that everybody loved to hate. He gets it and it doesn't bother him, usually, since it's the him at work he wants people to know, and he keeps on getting exactly what he wants.

'How sweet of you to show your concern,' Nines drawls, and it's so completely opposite how he usually speaks, Gavin can't help but stare at him, mouth falling open. Nines, though, pays no attention to that, frowning as he gazes down at one of his hands. 'The virus has attempted to meddle with my temperature regulators, but nothing more.'

'Yes, mine as well,' Connor says. 'I suggest we run a proper diagnostic, and then have our anti-viruses attempt to flush it from our systems.'

'A good idea, Connor,' Nines replies, sharp yet smooth.

Gavin just sighs, he's so over all of this shit. 'Alright, give yourself a couple pats on the back. Are we out or are we out?'

Nines frowns at him, actually frowns at him, it isn't subtle at all. 'Now, since there is nothing more here that requires our immediate attention, a return to the station does make the most sense.'

Gavin lets out an annoyed huff. He feels stupid for _worrying_ about the pair of overgrown toasters, but he does – what's the right for it – not _hate_ working with Nines, he's gotten pretty used to it, actually, and sometimes he… he really does like him, okay? And Connor's probably not as bad as Gavin makes him out to be, and fuck all that, none of this matters. If they say they're okay, they're okay.

'Sure, whatever,' Gavin practically growls. 'Let's just fucking _go_.'

–  
–

So they do just that and leave, and Nines and Connor run their diagnostics and log the results, and everything seems to be peachy fucking keen and that's enough of that for one night, Gavin is _gone_.

Nines is gone, too. But wherever he goes, it's a complete mystery. Maybe he's got a closet-sized apartment because he's just an android, he doesn't need anything else. Or, maybe, since Hank is out of town, and since Nines and Connor are so buddy buddy already, maybe they're having a little android sleepover over at Hank's place. Which is also Connor's place, now, since the two of them are living together, but not actually _living together_. Whatever.

Gavin grabs some curbside takeaway from one of his faves, there's an untouched six pack of beer waiting for him at home. He takes a shower after he eats, changes into something loose and comfortable and clean, then climbs into bed with his laptop with a couple more beers and binges Netflix until he ends up passing out. Who even fucking cares if it's his birthday. He sure as hell doesn't. See, usually, he'd be pestering Tina on the phone and they'd have watched something together, even if she couldn't have made it out directly. Maybe Chris, they're also kind of close. And Nines – he doesn't know, but he feels like he should. Anyhow, it's one of the worst days of his life and he just wants to stop existing for a while. So when he passes out eventually? Wish fucking granted.

He wakes up and finds Flapjack curled around his head, the cat rumbling as he purrs. Gavin's alarm is going off, phone vibrating, and he gropes for it blindly as the cat starts sliding down onto his face. Rolling out of the way and getting out of bed is probably the right thing to do, but Gavin just flops back down on his stomach when he's out of range – and Flapjack, since the big fluffy bastard was awake now too, wasn't perturbed by that at all. No, he just walked up Gavin like he was a catwalk (hah), and curled right back up in the middle of his back before going back to sleep.

Gavin scrolls through his news feed but sees the alert up in the corner that shows him how many new texts he has. And yeah, one of them is from TinCan900 – it reads, simply, _I do hope you plan on having a good day today, Detective. Don't forget about tonight._ Timestamp of 3:15am, when it had been sent – read, at 7:35 am.

Which is… ominous, maybe, but that's just one of Nines's moods. And anyhow, how could Gavin fucking _forget_? He's pretty much been asked out on a date and fuck that, _fuck_ , there's still plenty of time to cancel. Because what the hell is he even doing? Writing a quick reply to his partner, that's what he's doing, as Flapjack gets up, restless, those massive meat hooks of his prickling at Gavin's skin as he walks up along his back a little further before jumping to the side, with Gavin wincing all the while.

He's ready to just smother himself, get it over with finally, so he drops his face down onto the blanket and throws an arm across his head. He's _not_ thinking about Nines's fluttery little smile, or Nines's equally stunning frown, he's _not_. And sure, maybe if he keeps telling himself that, it might end up being the truth. He's sure as fuck not catching _feels_. Not for his partner, and hell, _not_ for an android.


	2. Chapter 2

Gavin ends up falling asleep again and doesn't wake until his phone falls out of his hand, hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Gavin's thankful for the heavy duty case and screen protector he uses, though he still ends up going through more phones than he'd like. This one is only three months old, and fuck, he's not ready to upgrade it yet. The cat's back at his fluffy bullshit again, zoned out on his back so Gavin has to deal with that first, before he can deal with anything else.

He's late to work – twenty-five minutes, actually, no big deal, right? – and Nines is already sitting at his desk, well, Gavin's probably better off dead. Nines does look up at him, and Gavin expects the usual – Nines hates it when he's late, but _hate_ is probably too extreme a word for it, no, none of Nines's emotions are that extreme. No, he loathes it, and the look he'd give Gavin would be so utterly dispassionate as to be apathetic – like he was something unpleasant that had happened to get to the underside of his shoe. I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed. That same energy.

Gavin hadn't even texted him to let him know he was on his way in – Nines wasn't his fucking babysitter, Gavin was some sort of actual adult, okay? And he'd worked here long enough, and hard enough, that he could get away with wandering in late every once in a while. Sure, Fowler might think differently, but Fowler's still on his shit list. Hell, most of them are, after yesterday.

This morning, though… well, it's a little less reserved, the look that Nines shoots him, all wide eyed and _interested_. And he looks away quickly, interfacing directly with his terminal to make it look like he was wholeheartedly into his work. Right, like Nines would miss an opportunity to give Gavin the dressing down he deserved.

Only that's exactly what ends up happening, ie, absolutely nothing. And it isn't… well, it's weird. It definitely doesn't feel _right_. Like Gavin's wandered into some bizarro side dimension where he actually looks forward to Nines berating him and reminding him just what a disappointment he can be.

Gavin chats with Tina in the break room, like nothing's wrong, like she hadn't forgotten his birthday like everyone else, and Nines is probably going to murder him when he finally gets to his desk, but oh well, everybody's got to die of something, right? Him and Tina even crack a few jokes at each other, only then his coffee's finished and he's sauntering to his desk. Nines doesn't look up, he's organizing the papers on his always-too-neat desk instead, and Gavin sets his cup of coffee down before sprawling out in his chair. He's using a mug Nines had bought him, though that was what he got for getting Nines one as a gag gift in the first place. He'd told Nines not to make a big deal of it, hadn't been expecting to get a present in return. When Gavin had first laid his eyes on it, the mug was fucking _perfect_ – very dark blue, with the words High Maintenance on them in silver script.

The one Nines got him in return was black, with gold lettering that indicated Gavin was a Little Bitch. So of course he'd dumped the coffee out of the disposable cup he'd been using, and brewed himself a fresh cup, just to break the new mug in. Tina still fucking loves it when he drinks out of it, often giggling when she spots it on Gavin's desk.

Just, all Gavin wants is for Nines to notice him, to react. He'll deal with Tina's teasing for that.

But Nines still doesn't look up at him, making busy work of the papers on his desk, you know, the desk which had already been tidy as fuck. Which makes Gavin the proud new owner of whatever silent treatment shitfit Nines happens to be lobbing at him, but fuck that.

See, Gavin keeps thinking about the message Nines had sent him, you know, the one he'd received at three in the fucking morning. The words flare up in his memory, pretty much imprinted on his brain at this point. _I do hope you plan on having a good day today, Detective. Don't forget about tonight._

And jeez, talk about mixed signals – hey, don't forget, we're kind of going on a date, and it's kind of happening tonight. But also, fuck actually communicating with actual words, how about you get better acquainted with this cold shoulder of mine, it's as state of the art as the rest of me. Maybe Nines is having an android mid-life crisis, even though Gavin's pretty sure he's only a little more than one year old, technically. Creepy, right. Fucking androids.

He picks up his cup and just makes himself comfy, sprawling out a little bit more before he takes his first drink. 'So, what's first on today's agenda, RoboCop?'

A pause, but Nines still doesn't actually look at him. He interfaces with his terminal again, and brings something up. 'The toxicology on Larry Pattenson's blood work is back, and they found traces of ketamine – it's time we pull his wife back in for a few more questions. Other than that, unless anything unexpected were to happen, it shouldn't be too strenuous a day.'

'Huh, kind of boring then.' He sits up, and Nines finally looks at him, one of his eyebrows quirked up in question… which is a different sort of look for him, whatever.

'Boring is not necessarily a _bad_ thing, Detective.'

'Never said it was, did I? I think you're putting words in my mouth, tin can.'

'I want to put _something_ in – ' Nines seems to notice what he's saying, and Gavin's brain's not really sure it wants to make the connection, even when his stomach goes tight and his tongue goes dry. There's a rush of heat across his face, and then Nines is slamming his hands down on the table, LED red as he shoves his chair out as he stands up, as he ends up storming away. Actually storming away, in a fucking huff, like – 

Wait, Gavin's brain slams on the brakes and then backs the fuck up – what the hell was Nines about to say? Gavin turns to shout over his shoulder at his partner, to tell him to get back over and finish what he started, but the android is already gone. Gavin sits up all the way and slams his cup down onto the desk, splashing coffee out onto his hand as he does. And yeah, it does burn a little but no, that doesn't actually matter, because he digs his phone out, unlocks the screen, brings up the messaging app –

And he fucking freezes. What's he supposed to say? _Hey, plastic, were you just suggesting I suck your dick? Because I'm honestly not as adverse to it as you might fucking think._

Gavin tosses his phone up onto the desk and rocks back in his chair, running his hands back through his hair and then yanking on it in frustration. He's just about ready to get up and hunt Nines down, only then he's suddenly aware of a presence at his right elbow, and he drops his arms in surprise.

Connor smiles at him, congenial as ever. He gives Gavin a once over, probably scanning him – fuck that, Gavin gets enough of that from Nines. Gavin glares at him but he hasn't even finished his first cup of coffee, it's a little lacking.

In other words, Connor doesn't fuck off, and he's not going to unless Gavin puts actual _effort_ into making it happen. And Gavin doesn't know if he has it in him to care.

'Good morning, Detective Reed. Are you… is something wrong?'

Gavin looks at him, then away, then gives himself whiplash when his focus snaps back onto Connor with a scowl. 'What the fuck do you care if something's wrong?'

Connor's eyes do widen some in surprise, because that level of vitriol is rather unexpected – all the tension and the animosity, it's mostly calmed down, and Gavin, he's gotten his act together, right? He's got Nines to thank for that, since Nines would seriously kick his ass if Gavin gave his predecessor _that_ much grief.

Only now he's back somewhere in the beginning of it all, wanting to tell Connor to fuck off before someone gets shot in the head. But – no, he doesn't actually feel that way, he's just – he's just a little uneven right now, Gavin's said and done shittier things in the past. And Connor's a real boy now, he can handle it when Gavin is feeling a little extra cranky. Connor's always been able to handle it. Had no fucking trouble knocking Gavin out on his ass, you know, since down on the ground with the rest of the trash was right where Gavin belonged.

'It's nothing,' Gavin bites out. It's no _I'm sorry_ , he's never been that full of remorse, well, he's definitely never been good at saying the right words. Never really apologized for all the other shit, either, did he? No, not when Connor had shown already that he could lay Gavin out in two seconds flat – Nines, if pressed, could do it in half the time, Gavin was pretty damn sure. Whatever posturing Gavin did, he wasn't that stupid. He knew who was higher up on the fucking food chain, thanks a goddamn lot. 'Thanks for your concern.'

Connor frowns, but gives a little nod of his head. Probably doesn't know what else to do with himself without Hank there to fuss over, Gavin's just… Gavin's really not sure why Connor would even pretend to care, really. Except him and Nines, they're friends, and Gavin and Nines, they're partners. Maybe Connor is just trying to be a bigger person than Gavin ever could, bridging the gap the only way he knows how. You know, with politeness and professionalism, things that Gavin's not as well acquainted with.

Well, fuck that.

Connor leaves him be, his light flashing yellow before he heads off in the direction Nines had fled. Gavin scrolls through some of his own work but then gives up on trying to make any progress, and picks his phone back up to play one of his games. Fifteen minutes or so later, Nines makes his way back into the bullpen. Gavin looks at him then turns away, playing his game as Nines comes to a stop beside his desk.

'I apologize for my earlier outburst, Detective,' Nines says, calmly, and Gavin tilts his head up, just to frown at him. He's looking immaculate as fucking ever, his gaze soft yet dispassionate, though not too cold. He smells like hand soap, a sharper twang of something else – something chemical. Something he's sniffed plenty of, since he started working up close with an android, since more and more of them turned out to be victims or perps – it's thirium.

Connor wanders back out and flashes a smile at Nines, who smiles back at him, and that – well, that sure as hell annoys the absolute fuck out of Gavin, for whatever reason.

'Yeah, whatever,' Gavin snaps out. 'What do you want?'

'I've attempted to contact Marcy Pattenson, but there was no answer. Her cellphone went straight to voicemail, which, while might not seem particularly concerning if it were anyone else…'

'It is now, that woman's seriously addicted to her phone,' Gavin grunts, shoving himself up and out of his chair, stowing his own phone in a pocket of his jacket.

When they'd first talked with her, she was constantly sidetracked with her phone, checking messages, taking selfies, even writing out messages to her friends. Not at all too concerned with her husband being dead, but her alibi checked out, and hell, plenty of people who fell in love eventually fell into loathing, humans aren't as complicated as androids like to make them out to be. Now her husband was dead, and she could stop playing pretend. And sure, it would have made things a whole lot easier, but it wasn't a motive – Larry didn't even have a substantial amount of life insurance, nothing worth killing him over, at least.

Nines nods at him, and hey, at least they can put the rest of the morning's weirdness behind them. Work calls, and work, Gavin can deal with that – it's a necessity, after all, and feelings are just fucking optional

'Let's take my truck,' Gavin says, and Nines nods at him, again. Quiet, but not particularly cold.

His truck is a 2002 ford explorer sport trac that's always going to be as old as he is, and it's still got a lot of life left in it – just like he does, fuck getting older. True blue clearcoat metallic that still holds up after all this time, and yeah, it's pretty difficult to find some parts and it's only going to get harder. Gavin does most of the work on it himself, since he doesn't trust anyone else in it. The best thing is, he can play the music as loud as he wants to and Nines can't interface with the stereo to shut it down.

He smirks over at Nines as he buckles himself in. 'Well?'

Nines's light is shining amber as he scans the charcoal gray interior. 'Autonomous cars are much safer. Your chances of being in an automobile accident decrease by 67% - '

'Yeah, shut up, I don't actually care. This truck is my baby, and I know you don't actually respect me, but you better respect _it_.' Fuck whatever Connor had said, before, about Nines thinking their partnership was _rewarding_. Fuck it forever.

'But I… I do respect you. In my own way,' Nines adds, after a small pause, looking… and this fucks Gavin up, looking _distressed_. 'I think you'd notice it more if you stopped acting like such a little bitch.' And he smiles, like, he actually smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle up and it's… it's fucking adorable, okay, Gavin's heart skips a fucking beat. He's on the emotional equivalent of a seesaw, it's really throwing him off.

Wait, wait, wait, back up – had Nines just make a fucking joke? Or enough of once since, well, Gavin knows that, yes, they both already know that he can, in fact, be a little bitch, or else Nines never would have bought him that coffee mug, and Gavin wouldn't have started using it.

Gavin barks out a laugh and turns the key over, not even trying to hide that smile of his own that was taking over his face. 'Yeah, fuck you, too, tin can.'

He glances sideways, had to know – and yeah, Nines's smile held steady as Gavin started backing them up out of the parking garage, Nines wasn't even trying to disguise what he was doing, not even showing an inch of shame. It was, objectively, a nice smile. Pleasing to the eye. Warm, and sincere. Gavin didn't know what to do with it. He felt pretty damn certain it couldn't mean anything more than it clearly did _not_.

Except –

What if it did?

Fuck, oh, _fuck_. Gavin was probably screwed.

–  
–

Gavin's feeling pretty cheesy now, since the rest of the drive to Marcy Patterson's house happens in a companionable sort of pseudo-silence, where sometimes they feel like giving each other shit and sometimes they just feel like listening to the music that's blaring out of the speakers, and sometimes Gavin just drives and sometimes, Nines just looks out the window. Gavin shoots a few more looks at Nines along the way, hoping to be subtle – and he's lucky, for the most part, when they're stuck at a light and Nines is yet again looking through the window at whatever happens to be outside. It's a free pass.

It digs at Gavin, digs some more, but he bites his cheek and tells those thoughts to fuck right off – he's not ready to think them, because doing so might just make them real. It's time for work, not time for Gavin to lose himself in a bit of self reflection.

The Pattensons had lived together in a pretty little house in a relatively nice suburb, with a white picket fence and all of that bullshit. Living the perfect American dream, what the fuck even meant in this day and age. For all they know, Marcy was dead in there, too, or maybe she'd just run off – guilt from her husband's murder, weighing her down. A bit of resentment stirs beneath Gavin's skin, but it's not from anything specific – just, sometimes, you end up in a nice neighborhood and it reminds you how not nice your childhood had been. That sort of start, it follows you everywhere. No wonder he's such a rotten sack of shit.

It must have a pretty obvious effect on his mood, because Nines gives him a wary look before setting his hand down on Gavin's shoulder. He goes to throw the hold off, Gavin's not feeling particularly touchy feely _ever_ , but Nines just tightens his grip and smiles at him, showing way too many teeth. Gavin's reminded that Nines could murder him in the blink of an eye, and yeah, still hot, Gavin's still not right.

'Calm down, Detective. If anyone is actually home, I'll do the talking.'

'Yeah, fuck off.' He does shoulder out of the hold then, stomping up to the front door – and yeah, he knows he should approach the situation cautiously, but no fucking way is that going to happen, it's eternally one of those days. Gavin jams his finger down on the doorbell and doesn't let off, just lets the buzzer ring. Nines grabs his wrist and forcibly removes it from the premises, and hasn't let go of in the time it takes for someone to actually open the door. Someone who isn't Marcy.

The guy, nervous looking, with glasses, looks from Gavin, to Nines, and then back to Nines, actually, and Gavin can _feel_ his fear spiking. Stress levels rising, Nines's HUD would have said something like that.

'Uh, who, um…' the guy stammers, voice trailing off.

Gavin jerks his hand away from Nines and gestures to his badge. 'Detroit Police, who the fuck are you?'

The man blanches, gaping at them. 'Uh – ' And then he tries to run, Gavin actually loves it when they try to run. Not as much as Nines, though, who bolts after the man and is on him in the blink of an eye – reading him his rights as he snaps on the cuffs, and Gavin just grins, his heart going a little lopsided, yeah, it even skips a few more beats. Fuck, his partner is hot, and Gavin watches the lucky bastard in cuffs get manhandled around – just enough to get the point across, of course, Nines tends to keep it above board.

'Clark Peters, aged 29. No criminal record, though that could easily change.'

Clark whimpers. 'Oh my God, I didn't do anything, just let me go – '

Gavin rolls his eyes. 'Right, cause people who didn't do anything, their first reaction to seeing a couple of cops is to fucking bolt. Just tell us where Marcy is, then maybe we'll think about letting you go.'

'Uh, um, what? Marcy's here – '

Gavin looks at Nines, Nines is already looking at him. And what follows is… well, it's pretty anticlimactic. Marcy's phone had been stolen, she was actually pretty distressed. Clark is her brother, who's just trying to help out around the house. Neither of them work in a field that would put them close to the sort of anesthetic that had been found in Larry's blood. Clark is too fucking easy to read, he's just gay and anxious and trying to help his sister out. And Marcy, she still doesn't seem to care what's going on, at least about her husband – but her phone was stolen, and her eyes are still red-rimmed and her whole face is kind of a mess, like she'd been crying all morning long and with them showing up, she was ready to cry some more.

They ask a few more awkward questions, and they end up leaving, with nothing more than what they had when they first arrived – which wasn't quite the truth, was it? At least then, they thought they might have a possible lead. Now, Gavin's driving, and trying not to think about it, but he just can't _not_. So he sighs, and squeezes the steering wheel a little too tight. 'This is just kind of fucked up.'

'The phone was a better companion to her than her husband had been. Why does that seem so strange?'

'Because… because.' Gavin doesn't really know what he's trying to say. There'd probably have been more vitriol before the whole android uprising where they ended up labeled sentient beings, but Gavin's pretty sure Marcy's phone hadn't deviated and she'd fallen in love with it or some fucking bullshit like that.

Oh fucking hell, that better not start happening.

'Her alibi still holds steady, as does her brother's. I think we need to start expanding our search radius – someone else wanted him dead, but not her.'

'Yeah, sure, whatever.'

Back at the station, Gavin goes to make himself a coffee and then heads up to the roof to drink, but he doesn't actually feel like smoking. He just stands there and tries to get out of his head, which is never as easy as he'd like it to be. Tired anxieties claw at him, try and drag him back down, kicking and screaming all the while.

He's a little surprised when Nines joins him on the roof. He's never done it before, tends to tell Gavin off for his bad habit and how the worst part of it is, how the smell lingers. But Nines is up here now, looking a little out of place, hair blowing in a suddenly sharp breeze. It messes with Gavin's head, how good Nines always look. How much effort does he put into it? Knowing Gavin's luck, Nines is just that sort of magic. Fucking _freckles_.

'What's shaking, plastic?'

Nines huffs, and comes to a stop beside Gavin. A little awkwardly, Nines lets his arms come to rest behind his back. Gavin keeps shooting him somewhat nervous glances, thinking that Nines is going to start berating him. For something, for anything. But he doesn't, he just… stands there, for a while, like he wants to enjoy a little more of Gavin's company. Like Gavin's ever been the sort to attract people because of his personality, because fuck that.

Nines ends up leaving as randomly as he'd showed up, though perhaps a little more quickly. And it's all weird, and a little like it had been with the trip out to see Marcy Pattenson, Gavin's left with more questions than he'd had on the way in.

–  
–

He mulls over it plenty as the rest of the day rushes by, because before he knows it, it's time to go home and he's somehow managed to get all caught up on the paperwork he'd been behind on, which should give Nines one less thing to bitch at him about. Nines stops him before Gavin has a chance to throw his jacket back on and race out the door, had the inevitable _whatever_ he's been avoiding all day long finally come to bite him in the ass?

Only, Nines smiles, it's nothing fluttery or gut twisting, it's just a nice smile, like it's a thing Nines now does, even when he hadn't been doing it before… like, yesterday. 'There are a few matters I need to handle before our date… how about I pick you up at seven?'

Gavin gapes at him, then nods, after forcing himself to shut his damn mouth – Nines did it, he actually did it, called it a date and acting like it wasn't rocking the very foundations of Gavin's world. 'Yeah, okay. See you then, I guess.' Gavin's trying to figure out how he could have forgotten about _that_ , but his brain felt pretty melted.

So he was ready to leave anyway, and he doesn't want to make it look like he's in a hurry because of Nines or anything, so he takes his time as he slides into his jacket. Him deciding to smirk over at Nines is probably some sort of mistake, since Nines is _staring at him_ , his light flashing yellow. It's… Nines has never looked at him like that, because if he had – oh, fuck, Gavin would have remembered. It only lasts a moment, but it's _hungry_ , and hell, Gavin should probably feel flattered, only his pulse is racing and his heart is trying to claw its way up out of his chest, via the happy track of his esophagus. Nines's eyes have never been so dark, and as he absently moistens his lips, a hot shiver runs down Gavin's spine before punching him in the gut. And yeah, it goes straight to his dick. He's a relatively uncomplicated man.

Nines blinks, exhaling softly, seeming to come back to himself, though he doesn't mention what's just happened. 'I'll see you at seven,' he repeats, and Gavin nods at him, staring after him dumbly as Nines goes on his way.

After that, Gavin shoots out of the building as fast as he can, climbing into his truck and gunning it for home. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He lets out a few delirious sounding giggles along the way, because if the rest of the night goes as well as he's hoping it will, he's going to get _fucked_. It's a bad precedence to have sex with your co-workers, especially your partner, it's the sort of thing internal affairs could rip apart and then, oops, now you've both lost your job, sucks to be you! Gavin's not thinking as reasonably as he ought to, no, because one of these things has mattered to him _forever_ , and one of them walked into his life six months ago, literally, and his immediate reaction at the time had been a very emphatic _get the fuck out_.

So he gives Flapjack a little bit of his attention because otherwise he'll never hear the end of it. Gives the cat some wet food because he loves the fluffy little fucker and his cat's one of the only people who can actually stand him – his cat only gets the good stuff, okay. Then Gavin decides, oh, he probably needs to shower, and put on something that doesn't make him look like actual garbage. He knows what he is, but illusions exist for a reason, okay.

Nines can't actually think he looks like garbage, right? Probably wouldn't act like he cared, if he did, or make some comment about androids and how they don't actually give a fuck about human beauty standards – well, minus the _fuck_. Nines didn't need to emphasize with excessive cussing, no, that was Gavin's shtick. But if Gavin had a bucket list, getting Nines to cuss more, all filthy as hell, yeah, maybe that would be close to the top. Just dirty him up all the fucking way. Tonight? If he's lucky? He'll end up getting stuffed, in more ways than one. He's as eager to give the same treatment to Nines, but hey if it's his first time with a human...

Gavin is a bit of a nervous wreck when seven rolls round and yeah, right on the dot, the doorbell goes off, and he smirks at the door as the tension rolls off of him like water. Sure, buried deep down in all the resentment and the self loathing, there of course had been a chance that Nines wouldn't actually show up, that he was just fucking around with Gavin's head. But Gavin's shitty self confidence is wrong about all that, as Nines makes himself known. He isn't letting up on the buzzer, and the sound is gnawing at the backs of Gavin's teeth.

Gavin opens the door, and ah, fuck, Nines looks good, mostly dressed in black with just a few hint of white and blue – and is that a leather jacket that Gavin spies, yes, yes it fucking is. The smell of it clings to Nines, but so does the cold of the evening air – and coupled with those indecently tight pants of his and the knee-high boots, Gavin fucking loves it.

Nines gives Gavin a tiny little grin that's pretty uncharacteristic as he takes his finger off the buzzer. On the other hand, the last twenty four hours have been pretty uncharacteristic in general, so. It's what it is and that's alright.

'Good evening, Gavin.'

Gavin just smiles at him, he feels fucking _alive_. 'Yeah, hi to you too, tin can.'

'Are you ready to depart?'

Should he invite Nines in first? Introduce him to the cat? Get sidetracked by whatever and… no, no. Nines has a plan. Gavin doesn't actually want to get in the way of any of that, at least for now.

They head back downstairs together, silent in the elevator, though Gavin keeps looking over at Nines and seriously loving what he sees. Outside, it's just as cold as he expected, but it's not like he needs an excuse to to wear a jacket. He looks around but there's no car parked directly at the curb, his building's okay with that sort of thing as long as it's just for an immediate pickup. Of course, usually he just drives himself.

There is, however, a motorcycle, and Gavin's brain lags behind him as it does what it can to parse what's going on. Even as Nines pulls what turns out to be a spare helmet out of the side storage compartment, Gavin's brain still hasn't caught up with what's going on. Oh fucking fuck, the night just keeps getting better.

'I did say _I_ would pick you up.' Nines smirks at him, though… though, okay, it's kind of playful. It's a little soft.

'I didn't know you had a motorcycle, Nines. Why didn't you…' He trails off, a moment of shitty self awareness dawning on him – yeah, you don't actually pay all that much attention to him, self. They've been working together for half a year now, but how much does he actually know about his partner? Statistically, less than he probably should. Most of the time, it's not like he'd have actually cared.

But now… ah, fuck.

'It never came up in conversation,' Nines says.

Gavin stands there, kind of stupidly, watching as Nines climbs onto the bike, looking too fucking good as he does. His helmet is resting in the crook of his arm, braced between that and his hand. 'I suppose I should have made certain you would have no issues with this mode of transportation, but…'

'What, fuck? I'm not scared or anything, I just. It's cool?'

Nines smiles at him, quietly, as he puts his helmet on. 'Alright then, climb up. And please, Detective, hold on tight.'

Gavin swallows, his throat gone tight, and he squeezes the helmet in his arms, trying to play it cool absolutely failing. Fuck, he's gonna _die_ , but he's way more okay with that than he has any right to be.

So he climbs up onto the back behind Nines, and fuck yeah, he sure as hell holds on tight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date time!

They end up at a bar and grill that serves Mediterranean-style cuisine. Gavin is a little suspicious at first but of course, but he's not exactly sure why. After six months of working together, of course Nines would have noticed what types of things Gavin liked to eat. Making note of every little thing, only bringing it up when it benefits him most.

Gavin wants to complain about it, tell Nines he's overstepped a boundary, accuse him of being a creepy fucking android. Which he is, but not in a bad way? Gavin hasn't been on anything even close to a date in a very long time, but it's always been easier to deflect when it comes to his emotions. Way more easier than it is to admit he's feeling a little touched.

'I've never been here before.' Falafel Paradise. The name is kind of corny, but Gavin's been to worse, and he's already loving it. He lets out a low breath as he grumbles and blushes, when Nines holds open the door for him.

'It's relatively new, but it has very good reviews. Plus it does have some android friendly options available, as well.'

Gavin nods, drawing his hands out of the pockets of his jacket and rubbing them together. Nines is standing beside him, and a friendly young woman quickly approaches. She's an android, as well, though the only reason Gavin actually notices is because she happens to still be wearing her LED.

'Hello, my name is Sophia! Do we need a table for two?'

Nines nods briskly, and Gavin chokes on a gasp as Nines's hand comes to rest at the small of his back, warm and firm. The hostess, Sophia, just smiles at them, and Gavin's temperature spikes as she picks up cutlery as well as menus before turning away, Nines's hand hasn't moved. 'Just this way then, please follow!'

Nines gives him a little nudge and Gavin's feet unstick themselves from the ground. He stumbles a little but Nines doesn't let him fall. Feels kind of ridiculous, but Nines probably wouldn't let that happen anyway (or he would, but not tonight, whatever). Gavin's world view re one specific android has been kind of thrown on its side and he doesn't know what to do about it. Like, at all.

Well, following Sophia to the table sounds like a good place to start.

'Is a booth okay?' she asks with a bright smile.

'Yeah, that's fine.' Gavin drops down to sit and is surprised – why is he surprised? - when Nines sits down beside him.

'You might want to scoot in some more, Detective,' Nines says, and yeah, it's also with a smile.

Gavin swallows and nods, and scoots in, giving Nines plenty more room, which the android quickly overtakes. Of course, he ends up pressed right up beside Gavin, thigh to fucking thigh, and Gavin lets out a soft sigh that doesn't shudder whatsoever, don't fucking @ him, as he picks up the menu.

'Your waitress is named Ashlee, she'll be with you shortly. But before that, what would you like to drink?'

Gavin frowns, at a slight loss. 'Uh, some water, with lemon? And a…' He flips the menu over and scans through the booze.

'The Pinot Blanc would probably go well with whatever you end up eating,' Nines suggests. 'What do you think?'

'Well, I don't usually worry about complementing flavors,' Gavin huffs, slowly shaking his head, 'but I guess it's a special enough day. I'll have a bottle of that.'

Nines gives him a look.

'What?'

'Oh, nothing.'

'Excellent,' Sophia says, bright as ever. 'And you, sir?'

Nines smiles at her, God, Gavin won't ever get enough of that smile.

'Just a doubleshot of thirium, please.'

'Of course! I'll be right back, but maybe Ashlee will have seen you by then. I hope you enjoy your stay here!'

Now that drinks are out of the way, Gavin goes back to scanning through the menu, but this time, he's worried about food. Food – Nines probably won't actually be eating anything will he? Gavin's still pretty sure that androids don't _eat_ – there's been a lot of talk about that, though, since some androids are interested in it. And yeah, there's the other side talking about what a waste it would be.

'Get whatever you want, please.'

'You sure? What if I end up eating you out of house and home?'

'I'm sure that won't actually happen, Gavin. Please.' And his hand drops down on top of Gavin's, pulling the menu back open to the third page. 'I noticed you were eyeing something on this page, so please go ahead and order it, if that is what you want.'

Another absent swallow, and Gavin nods. He's feeling a little more warmer, even, like whenever Nines touches him, all he can do is get hotter. 'Okay, sure. But you insisted.'

'Yes, obviously, I did.'

Nines is grinning at him, softly, and Gavin smiles back, feeling… kind of different, really. But it's a good different – maybe he should try to spend more time outside of work with his partner. Maybe Nines has been his partner long enough, they might consider actually being friends. And maybe when Nines is finished wining and dining him, he'll drive Gavin back to apartment and… and Gavin's got no illusions on the matter, if it does happen, it's going to be the best sex he's had in ages.

And the way Nines keeps acting, Gavin's feeling more than just lucky.

Still, maybe he's giving Nines a little too much credit. But maybe it's allowed? Gavin only kind of knows what he's getting into it. He'd looked into places like the Eden Club, back when he professed to hate androids (him and Hank both, and look at where it's gotten them). But he's never actually fucked one, there was just something about it that rubbed him the wrong way. Not just that it would have been an android he was fucking, but hell, he actually does care about consent and that sort of shit. How the fucking hell is a machine that's not allowed to tell him no supposed to consent to having sex?

Now he just… works with one, a deviant. Who he doesn't actually hate, anymore, though Gavin's pretty sure Nines is always going to be some sort of pain in the ass. And Gavin keeps seeing more and more androids showing up as victims, he knows they're people too. He's not as big an asshole as some people think he is. Just… maybe just 75% that amount, okay? Though it really does depend on the day. And all it's because work him and not-at-work him are two very different people, at least in some small regards. But in others… well, they're not.

Sophia returns with their drinks, and a few minutes after that, another cheery young woman – with her dark brown hair pulled up into a bouncy ponytail – stops by, introducing herself as Ashlee and saying she'll be taking their order. And… she's an android, as well. Gavin's starting to sense a pattern here.

They put in their orders and Ashlee says she'll be back shortly with their appetizers – well, with Gavin's appetizer. Gavin sips his wine, leaving the water for later. It's nice – maybe it'll be nicer when he's got a little more food in his stomach. He kind of skipped out on lunch, not that he'd meant to – just, it happens, sometimes, and he made up for the lack of actual subsistence with more coffee.

Which, no, it doesn't actually help.

'Are you enjoying yourself so far?'

'Yeah, this is nice.' Gavin picks up his glass, and swirls the wine around in it. The atmosphere is pretty decent as well, the main room softly lit with low hanging lights over each table, ones with frosted yellow bulbs. There's some soft music playing, too, and all in all, goofy name aside, it's actually pretty romantic. Then he thinks about the reason they're here, how his birthday had been forgotten, how he's a grown ass adult and why should it even matter? He's feeling a lot more mellow about it than he had before, he knows it happens. Either a reminder didn't get sent out, or it got caught up in spam filters because isn't that what work email is, after all? Fucking spam. It's not personal, even though it feels like it is. Still, it stings. 'I don't know why I was so fucking surprised. Most people get cards, at least, maybe a free box of donuts or a carton of smokes. Not this asshole.'

'I'm sorry – I shouldn't have assumed…'

'No, man, I'm not bitching at you. It happened, I'm not exactly the nicest person ever. Even my friends kind of hate me, I'm told it's part of my charm.' Does it get tiresome? Sure. But Gavin knows who he is, and maybe he'll make some slight adjustments from time to time, but he likes who he is – well, he hates the fucker mostly, but that's kind of the same thing? If he said something to Tina, to Chris, they'd make it right, the way Nines is trying to make it right. Because for as much as an ass as he tends to be, he isn't actually friendless.

Is that where they are now? Friends?

Which means if he gets any of this wrong, there's the possibility he's throwing it all away.

'I really appreciate this. I, uh… I've been thinking about you, lately. A lot.'

'Oh?'

Nines shifts his leg, a little, presses it more firmly against Gavin's. God, he's so fucking warm – no, outright hot. Gavin lets out a low groan, shuddering, his hands coming to rest at the edge of the table.

'We could do this again, if you'd like?' Hell, Nines sounds kind of wistful.

'I really don't think you know what you're getting into here, Nines.' Because Gavin could already see himself getting used to it. Being friends, maybe more than friends. Going on actual dates.

'But I do enjoy your company. And I wish we could see more of each other outside of work. And I…' He trails off, and Gavin relaxes, some, turning to look at him. Nines is looking at him, head tilted to the side, LED a bright yellow at his temple, spinning, spinning. He reaches up with a hand, presses it to the curve of Gavin's cheek – slides it, some, and traces his thumb across Gavin's bottom lip. Gavin's kind of boxed in, here, there's no place for him to go, and Nines is leaning in, closer, closer. 'I'd like to… I want…'

Gavin can feel the unexpected warmth of Nines's breath against his mouth, and he slides his tongue across his upper lip, swallowing around nothing. Just another inch and...

'Here we – oh! Sorry, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything.'

Ah, _fuck_.

Nines's hand has dropped away from his face, and Gavin feels like he's been set on fire – they've both jerked away from each other, and Gavin can't see Nines's LED but he wouldn't be surprised if it was yellow, or even red. 'No, nothing at all.' Nines moves their drinks to the side, giving Ashlee more room to set the appetizer (a plate of bread with oil to dip it in) down. 'Thank you,' he says, when all Gavin can do is continue to stare dumbly at Nines.

Fuck, Nines was going to kiss him, and Gavin was going to let it happen. Fuck, _fuck_.

But maybe that's more than what he actually wants. He's ready to climb Nines like a tree, but – but kisses, and feelings, and that sort of bullshit – that's not what he wants. If anything actually happens, if this turns into something more. Still, his lips feel a little obvious, like, the pressure of Nines's thumb lingering after his hand had fallen away. The heat of his breath. _Fuck_.

They focus on eating, for a while – well, Gavin does the eating, and Nines drinks, and they both talk, at least when Gavin's mouth isn't otherwise occupied (the bread and oil dip is fucking delicious, okay). And it's nice, and kind of comfortable – they've obviously never done anything like this, so all of it is new. Gavin finds out that Nines lives in a very small apartment (though it's bigger than a closet, because of course Gavin asks), mostly all on his own – he has three fish, and a snake. He quite likes cats, as well, and he'd like to get one eventually – obviously, he wouldn't allow the cat and snake to interact.

Cats, though, Gavin knows everything about cats. 'You'll have to meet Flapjack, then. He's a big fluffy bastard, I'm sure you're gonna love him.'

They agree to that, and Gavin even pulls out his phone, shows off pictures of said fluffy bastard – Nines seems quite taken by him, and Gavin lets him swipe from one picture to the next. There's probably nothing on his phone he doesn't want Nines seeing, he'd be fucked if that sort of thing happened, right? But he's mostly decent, like, you don't keep the bad shit on your phone anyway, okay? That's for your home computer. Duh.

Anyway, he's pretty much just invited Nines back to his place to see his cat, and Nines is a-okay with it. So they're moving along.

Gavin's mopping up the rest of the olive oil with the last bit of bread when Ashlee shows up to ask how they're doing, and to get refills on Nines's drink (Gavin's got the bottle of wine, after all). A few minutes after that, the main course arrives – falafel, of course, it's in the place's fucking name. Spiced Moroccan meatballs and veggies, which he's had before, never at this place obviously – but if they're as good as they were at the other place, they're pretty much to die for. And the best Greek salad Gavin thinks he's ever seen, like, it looks pretty authentic. Not a piece of lettuce in sight.

And they are. Sure, Gavin feels a little weird, eating while Nines sits there, right up against him. Their legs are still touching, and it might not be the only thing Gavin can think of, but his attention keeps on trailing back downwards. He'd like Nines to touch him, some more, but yeah, Gavin wants to reciprocate. Holding onto Nines on the back of the bike, hell, that had been nice. And if he's right about where the rest of the night is going, it's only going to get better.

'Like, is this really okay? You're just watching me while I eat, aren't you bored?'

'Nothing about you bores me.'

Ah, fuck. Sometimes, Nines really fucks with his head, whether he means to or not – what the hell is Gavin supposed to say in response to something like that?

'Whatever.' Deflect, that's what he'll do, like always. He's pretty fucking good at it, too, since he's been doing it all his goddamn life.

He's close to finished with the last of the entree when Ashlee returns with the desert – the ekmek kataifi, not that Gavin had actually ordered it. Gavin gives Nines a _look_. 'You fucking told her this was for my birthday, didn't you?'

'Ah, yes, I did. She won't actually sing for you, if that sets your mind at ease?'

Gavin chuckles, shaking his head, the room could have been on fire and it would have been perfectly alright. 'God, whatever. This is all fine.'

So he gets to eat that too, and fuck, he's had the dish before but it's never been this good. All light and syrupy and fucking wonderful, it's pretty divine. Nines gets up at one point and excuses himself, but Gavin doesn't know where he ends up going. He's an android, it's not like he needs to piss.

He's gone a few minutes and then he's back, and damn, Gavin's leg sure had missed it, Nines's leg being pressed up close. Gavin goes to take a drink of his wine, then pours that little bit left over in the bottle into his glass. Sure, he's feeling a little warm, a little tipsy, but it's nice. He doesn't actually drink as much as some of his co-workers – hell, definitely Hank, when he was really hitting the sauce. Gavin turns to look at Nines, tilting his head to the side, and he flicks his tongue at his lip, and then – 

He does get a good enough view of Nines's LED, as it burns bright red for a moment, then going yellow, only somewhat calmer. Nines's hands come up to grip Gavin's face, and it's nothing slow at all, and Gavin wants to question what the hell is going on, only then Nines is pressing his mouth to Gavin's. Gavin lets out a small, stuttering breath, as Nines licks across his lips. Dives in with his tongue, kissing him. That hard sort of kiss, it's already deep, and it's bound to just get messier. Fucking _divine_.

Gavin groans, as he twists in the booth to better face Nines. Lifts his hands up to grab at Nines's arms, he can feel the heat of his skin burning through his shirt. Speaking of burning, Gavin's lungs are starting to feel like they're on fire. Nines breaks off abruptly, it's accompanied with a loud gasp. He blinks a few times, and a faint blush steals across his cheeks.

Fuck, oh, fuck.

'Uh…'

'Gavin…' Nines exhales, a breathy sigh. He presses his forehead to Gavin's, drops one hand down to press against his chest. Gavin's heart is thudding away like a fucking train, and it's still kind of hard to catch his breath, and Nines's hand is just… there, resting so light, fingers curling in slightly as they clutch at Gavin's shirt.

'Gavin, I want…' Only then he's kissing Gavin, and it gets hard and hot and deep all over again. This time, though, Nines takes his time and slowly works into it, which sets Gavin's brain slowly spinning off into space as he tries to figure out how this could even be a _thing_.

Gavin groans as Nines really presses into it, a little deeper, a little messier. Gavin is being pushed back, and fuck, that's pretty damn hot, everything about Nines is fucking on _fire_.

Nines's hands drops down a little bit further, stroking down Gavin's sides, clutching and then squeezing at his hips. 'Gavin, I need… we need to…' Nines moistens his lips, leaves them parted. 'I think we need to leave. Now.'

Gavin nods, a trickle of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Yes, that's the best idea ever. Well, other than climbing on top of Nines in the booth – wait, no, that'd probably get them arrested or something so fuck that.

'Yeah, let's go. Wait, uh, the bill – '

Nines is already pulling him up and out of the booth, by the wrist. 'Already dealt with. And I tipped quite nicely, as well – but, we have to go. I _need_ this, I… Gavin, please?' They stop, at the exit, one of Nines's hands pressed to the glass of it, the other still squeezing at Gavin's wrist. 'I don't know what I need, but I want you. Please?'

Gavin nods, voice stuck in his throat. And hey, nodding gets the job done.

–  
–

They don't get far. Nines's bike is parked to the side of the building, but Nines gives up on pulling Gavin along and just shoves him back against the wall. There's no fucking way Nines actually knows what sort of things Gavin is into, how hard he likes it, how a little rough play goes a long fucking way. There's more to it than that, but this… this is the sort of Gavin needs, what Gavin wants. What he knows he actually deserves, because someone like Nines would never want Gavin topping _him_.

So, the brick wall makes the perfect sort of impact against Gavin's shoulders, stinging and tingling, and it shoots all the way through him, right to his dick.

He lets out a breath, all hot and ragged, as Nines descends on him again. He tries to get his hands on Nines but all Nines does is get his hands back on Gavin, taking him by the wrists and then shoving his arms back against the wall. Nines is close now, so fucking close, Gavin can hardly breathe. Nines is kissing Gavin like he was programmed for it, like it's the only fucking thing that matters in the whole entire world.

And Jesus, Gavin's hot. And it's hard to think. Because he's never actually thought about Nines having a dick, or not – 

Well, that's a lie. And it would also be a lie to say he'd not fantasized about his partner over the last six months they'd worked together, and yeah, even when he hated the fucker for intruding into his life. Nines is _hard_ , leg pushing up between Gavin's, his dick pressing against Gavin's thigh. Hard, and not small, but hey, CyberLife's best, right? Why would they skip on any of the important shit, like, you know, the size of his dick.

Nines lets off, again, because there are tears in Gavin's eyes, his lungs are really starting to burn. 'Oh fucking hell,' Gavin mutters, ready to slump over – but hey, Nines is still holding him back against the wall. Nines is the one who's holding him up. 'Come on, come on, that was good,' Gavin says, no, _whines_.

They're in a side-alley. Anyone could come walking by. Gavin doesn't fucking care. He just wants Nines to go back to grinding against him, kissing him, making Gavin forget who he is and where they are. He blinks, Nines's LED is cycling yellow and red. Violent, hypnotic. Nines licks his lips, again, thumbs digging into the soft meat of Gavin's wrists.

'I could fuck you right here,' Nines murmurs, right against Gavin's cheek.

And fuck, all Gavin can do is gasp softly, moan, ' _please_.'

Nines backs away, a bit jerkily, old school robotic. Blinks, his LED not just yellow and red anymore, no, it's solid red, bright, burning crimson. That's not good, it can't be good, but the rest of this? It's fucking perfect. If Nines ends up losing control, that's totally okay in Gavin's book, Gavin doesn't deserve anything better. Gavin leans into it, just wants to get Nines's tongue back in his mouth.

'Nines, come on. Stop fucking around.'

Another blink, and Nines lets go of him. Steps away, once, twice, quickly putting distance between them. 'I – uh. No, I'm – this isn't,' he actually puts his head in his hands, like he's having some sort of fucking crisis, and Gavin – well, he feels a lot, all of a sudden, and none of it is good.

'This isn't right.' Distress, honest to God distress, it laces itself through Nines's words and shoves a fucking knife into Gavin's gut. Nines lets his hands fall down, shaking his head quickly. 'This isn't me?'

'Nines, come on, stop messing around – I'm okay with this. And you're okay with it, too? You seemed okay with it. What, is fucking me suddenly beneath you?' Because honestly, it's not like it would be the first time. Gavin's not really lusted after, this isn't old news. But… but still. He really wanted this, he still does. And it was good, so good, it could have been a little more perfect but Gavin isn't being greedy. He's just not used to good things happening to him.

Good things, like Nines.

'No!' Nines shouts, and he recoils as Gavin lunges at him, clearly not having calculated as that having been a thing that might happen. Gavin keeps at it, and Nines sidesteps him, again, catches him the next time Gavin throws himself at him. This is stupid, and if this is Nines saying – saying whatever – then he needs to actually say it, not just pull this bullshit rhetoric of his out of thin air. There'd been something there, there really had been, and _Gavin_ – 

'Please! Something was happening and it was _good_ , and nothing good ever fucking happens to me! What the hell is going on here, Nines?'

Because, _fuck_. What Nines had said, about want, and need, well, maybe he's not the only one.

Nines is still shaking his head, maybe just shaking it again. 'Please, Gavin, you have to understand – whatever this is, I'm not in control of myself.' But his voice, it's despairing, it's showing so much, and fuck that, Gavin doesn't have to be reasonable, not when his heart is ready to hammer its way out of his chest. Or get a knife in it, like that one that was already, metaphorically, lodged in his gut.

Funny as fuck time for Nines to learn how to emote.

'I don't fucking _care_ – ' Gavin starts, before the side of Nines's fist comes into contact with his temple, and darkness comes rushing in. And who's Gavin to fucking ignore it, after a hit like that?

–  
–

Gavin comes to and he's fucking _seething_. Well, that is, after he stops being confused. Because the last thing he remembers is Nines… and then they were kissing? And then – ah, _fuck_. That fucking bastard, he'd punched Gavin in the head. And now, uh, Sophia, yeah, that was her name, she's stooped down right in front of him, a look of concern on her face, her LED burning bright blue. Goddamnit, fuck, his head _hurt_.

'I received a distress signal from this alley… oh, goodness, are you alright? Do I need to alert the paramedics?'

Gavin goes to shake his head, but fuck, no, that's definitely a bad idea. He puts a hand to the wall and starts pulling himself up to his feet. He's a little wobbly, but he steps out past Sophia and looks for Nines – and Nines, of course, is nowhere to be seen. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Gavin yanks his phone out of his pocket (his phone he'd ignored all night long, since they were on a fucking _date_ ), but there's nothing out of the ordinary waiting him in his notifications. No message from Nines, that's for damn sure.

He throws the phone against the wall with a very loud 'FUCK!'

Sophia takes a step back. 'Uh…'

Look at him, throwing a fucking tantrum, he's such a goddamned child. 'Fuck, fuck, sorry, I just – I guess I got stood up. At the end of the fucking night.' He wobbles a few more times as he goes to pick up the phone. Good thing he overcompensated with the case and everything, he hadn't actually managed to break the damn thing. Just a few cracks in the screen protector, like the cracks in his fucking heart.

Fresh tears are burning in his eyes, but fuck that, he wipes them away. Nines… fuck, he doesn't know what to do, or think, or even say. 'I guess I'll just get a cab. Nice place you've got here. I'll be sure to leave it a great review.' Bitter sarcasm carries him away. He needs to get drunk, he needs to get fucked up.

Thankfully, he knows just where to go.

–  
–

Gavin stumbles into his apartment at half midnight, still out of his head and a little drunk, his fists bloody and his ass sore. Nines, just, fuck Nines. It's not like he actually wanted Nines to date him, never mind they were out on a date – he was just hoping to get lucky, that's all. Have one person act like they actually cared about him, for one evening at least – no one actually cares about him, he's a fucking asshole, he gets that. And now he's gone and had sex with someone else, he didn't even know the bastard's name. Nines has fucked off to who knows where and – 

Fuck Nines. Fuck him, it just doesn't matter. Gavin doesn't like him, Gavin doesn't need him.

(He fucking does, he _does_ ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this, you'd think that for a story I technically wrote in 2018 (that's when I finished the first draft) it'd be easier to post lmao


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ain't been in a good place, sorry for the delay lmao

Gavin gets woken after only two hours, by some shithead knocking on his door. His head – thanks to Nines, and thanks to all that whiskey, and to the nameless bastard who'd knocked it back against the wall when they'd been fucking in that bathroom stall – feels like fucking hell. And his ass, okay, his ass kind of feels like hell as well, he's still fucking sore.

And, just because he's feeling extra shitty (and it's sensible, okay, he doesn't live in the best neighborhood ever) he retrieves his service pistol from the bedside table, where it was resting beside his badge, before he heads to the front door. He opens it slightly, cautiously, then kicks it open all the way, and Flapjack – who'd followed him out of the bedroom – spooks and dashes off with a patter of his fluffy feet, because he's only a fucking cat and loud noises = the worst thing ever don't you just know. Gavin aims out into the hall… only to lower the weapon pretty much immediately, because it's Connor and Nines, what the fucking fuck! The last person he wants to see is fucking _Nines_ , or anyone who happens to have an almost identical face.

'Goddammit, you two! What do you fucking want! Wait, no, I fucking take it all back – get the fuck out of here, _I don't care_!' One of his neighbors is going to end up complaining about the noise, but he doesn't care about that, either, even if his landlord gets involved. They can all just eat his fucking ass.

He goes to slam the door in their faces but Connor catches it with the flat of his hand. With a grin that's showing way too many teeth, fuck, even that reminds Gavin of Nines, Connor pushes the door back open. Gavin stumbles back a few steps before he regains his balance. His anger, though, holds steady. Fuck this, and fuck them, he's not dealing with anymore of their bullshit, and they can't make him.

Connor holds both his hands up, a useless gesture that's meant to placate him. Gavin might not be a negotiator, but he's seen enough hostage situations go sour despite their best fucking attempts – so he's pretty familiar with the games said negotiators tend to play. 'I know this is quite unexpected, Detective Reed, but we had no other place to turn.'

And Nines, he's just standing there to the right of Connor's shoulder, a little to the side and behind him. Just standing there, not actually saying anything. He looks… kind of wrecked. Hair's all messed up, he's wearing something other than what he'd had on earlier that night. Which is honestly a pity, because _those boots_.

But Gavin doesn't need Connor meddling in his and Nines's affairs, because that's it, there's nothing fucking _there_. 'Fuck the both of you two – '

'Actually, that's what we were hoping you could help us with.'

Gavin just… stands there. Blinks, then blinks again. Tucks the gun into the waistband of his boxers and runs both his hands back through his hair as Connor steps into his apartment, followed by Nines. Nines closes the door behind him, locks it, and yeah, both of their LEDs are a flickering light show of yellow and red, spinning and cycling and whirling about.

He hadn't noticed that at first, maybe he hadn't wanted to, maybe they'd just been too far out into the hall but now he's just making excuses. Because yeah, he knows that isn't good, and it reminds him how Nines's light had been out of control back in that side-alley. But Gavin… knows he cares, even if he says he doesn't. He sure as fucking hell _cares_ , even though he wishes he didn't, and his head still hurts and he's angry, fuck. Because more than his head hurts, and no, he's not talking about his ass.

Nines knocked him out the fuck right out, had left him high and fucking dry, and Gavin had been so fucking _hopeful_ – not just because, oh, sex. But because he cared, he wanted Nines to care, too.

But it doesn't actually bother as much as it should, though he knows it should. There's this annoying little itch at the furthest edge of his mental periphery, telling him that something isn't right here – and a little soft buzzing, almost too quiet for him to really hear, deep down in the depths of his ear canal. Connor and Nines, maybe their LEDs are running wild, but they're just… standing there now. Letting Gavin get his head on straight before they say anything else.

Gavin knows he needs to tell them to fuck off, and leave. He doesn't. And… okay?

Instead, with a sigh that's not exactly defeated (it's just pretty fucking close), 'The fuck are you talking about?'

Connor lets his hands come to rest behind his back. He looks calm enough, just for the LED that's still erratically flashing. 'I'll cut to the chase – we seem to have downloaded a computer virus, specifically, a sex virus, Detective Reed.' Shit, like that's just the sort of thing he'd ever just _say_. But he has, and Gavin – that makes sense, right? (None of this actually makes sense.)

But Nines sure as hell had been acting funny… though funny's putting it pretty likely.

'You think I can help? That I'd even want to…?'

'Because we would all be getting something out of it, correct?' Connor smiles at him, and he looks a little hungry… like he's just about ready to gobble Gavin up, or whatever. Like, the sentiment is definitely there. 'We both already know you are attracted to Nines, Gavin – this is the perfect opportunity to make the best of a very bad situation, don't you think?'

And then Connor takes a step closer, as does Nines. Nines goes one way, and Connor the other, liked they'd planned this out or something. They're not close enough for Gavin to feel like they're trying to corner him off. But the door is between them, behind them. And he has his gun, but it's not like he's going to discharge it inside his fucking apartment, alright? That sort of shit ends up requiring more paperwork than he feels like dealing with, ever.

Or fire at either of them. He's not that same guy anymore, okay?

Deflection, though, it's his middle name. 'I don't know what you're talking about,' he grits out.

Connor sighs, shaking his head – he sounds plenty disappointed, and Gavin can't parse the look on Nines's face. 'You're lying, Detective Reed,' Connor says, voice steady, unlike his strobing LED. 'Why are you lying?'

'Because…' Jesus, he's starting to feel pretty loopy. Loopier? 'I don't know. I'm actually pretty down with this, okay? I'm not sure why and I...'

Connor shoots Nines a look of concern, but then he's looking back towards Gavin. 'I suppose we couldn't have expected that, that the virus would have some sort of effect on you, as well – though we did of course attempt to factor in all that we could. Our preconstruction ability… has been malfunctioning, you see. Perhaps... you are a vital component?' He steps closer, and hell, Nines does the same thing. Now Gavin's feeling a little boxed in, sandwiched between the two tall androids, but it's not a bad thing? No, he doesn't want to run. He wants to push against Nines, or Connor, it doesn't matter. He needs it, their touch.

'...one we find ourselves lacking. The organic to our synthetic?' And fuck, why did Connor whisper it like that, all shuddering, hot? It's melting Gavin's already mushy brain, it's shooting straight to his dick.

Still, he tries to hold onto what reason he can, as Connor and Nines both stand so fucking close. Androids don't smell like anything, but there's a little extra something in the air – like a static charge, and Gavin's about to get shocked, and still, there's that buzzing in his ears. Connor could be right about the virus affecting him, too, but how does that even make sense?

'How do you even know where I live?' It's kind of pathetic, okay, he's close to whining. Because he wants to be touched, specifically – the more he thinks about it, really – he wants Nines to touch him. But that doesn't mean Connor can't touch him too, like. Whatever?

Connor puts a hand on his arm, his fingers curling around Gavin's bicep. Gavin tries to hold onto his dignity, despite his body screaming for him to just give into it – he's not actually a touch-starved cat, thank you very much. But he does push into Connor's grip, and hell, Connor's hand is so soft and the synthskin is so incredibly smooth? Gavin's own skin is feeling a little itchy, he's starting to flush all over, and he's hard, God, he's so fucking hard. And speaking of hard, it's hard as fuck to string two thoughts together. But he wants this, he wants them, and he wants them to want him, too. All signs are pointing to yes, Gavin, you're gonna get fucked by your two hot android co-workers. The unfunny ones, remember? Doublemint fucking Twins.

Yeah, that's perfectly fucking reasonable, that. Two of his co-workers (the hot ones, remember) – one of whom had kind of stood him up after knocking him out cold, but that's not really how it had gone down, was it? – are trying to proposition him for sex. Yeah, totally normal, that.

Connor sighs softly. His grip at Gavin's arm, it tightens. 'Nines hacked the station's database. I told him there were less illegal measures we could take, but he was already convinced.'

He pauses, dampens his lips with the tip of his tongue. 'We have been unable to remove the virus from our systems. In fact, on attempting to reboot after the anti-virus claimed to have been successfully quarantined and then removed, we…' Connor's trembling, he's actually trembling. Whatever this is, it's hitting him fucking hard, but getting the consent issue out of the way first seems to be at the top of his to-do list, no matter his own comfort.

'So what's so wrong with it? It makes you horny? That's not bad.'

Now, Connor looks a little ashamed – definitely a learned thing, something he picked up from hanging around too many humans. Hank, probably, in specific. Fuck, what bad timing for Hank to be out of town – maybe Gavin's just their second choice. Maybe they'd have preferred going to Hank, if he was available. But he's not. He's in LA, and he won't be back till Monday. Late.

Stop thinking too much, Gavin tells his self loathing. Gonna get double dicked down by the Doublemint Twins, you can't take that away from me, alright?

'It's…' Another pause, Connor's attempting to word this as delicately as he can. 'It's overtaken several subroutines, you see, and it's not incredibly dangerous but it's compromised our internal temperature gauges and we are both at risk of overheating. It's quite bothersome, really, so if you could just help us…?'

Overheating? That could fry their fucking processors, and Connor's saying it isn't dangerous? Yeah, Gavin calls bullshit. 'So, um, go to a repair shop or something? I'm not licensed to deal with this sort of crap, and you both know it.'

'Uh, yes, we discussed that option and while it makes the most sense, I would, uh… I would rather not anyone else find out that we have both been compromised in such a ludicrous manner.' A small, nervous laugh, and Connor fidgets with the edge of his sleeve. 'We did of course attempt to relieve our discomfort on our own. But something seemed to have been missing…'

Gavin nods, and he should probably care a little more because alright those are some very interesting mental images right there, but he doesn't, he just fucking doesn't. (He might regret this later on, but then again, oh well.)

Nines is touching his chest, now, with just the tips of his fingers – it feels too fucking good, and Gavin wants more. Touch me, touch me, touch me, his head is just shouting at Nines, not that Nines can read his mind. Well, a human mind, anyway, since him and Connor do have that whole android telepathy thing going on.

Gavin manages to turn his head and look at him, and damn, Nines's look is _intense_ , Gavin's head is starting to spin. Gavin smiles at him. Leans into the touch, because he can, and Nines's hand trembles as he continues to stroke Gavin's chest – Gavin's bare chest, oh yeah, he doesn't have a shirt on, thinking, it's so hard, it's like he's swimming through sap or molasses or something like that, some sort of thick syrupy junk. He's just in his boxers, and each second that passes by, his dick keeps getting harder, his whole entire body is pulsing with unrestrained heat.

Fingers aimlessly stroke over a nipple, and fuck, that's a spark of fucking lust punching him in the gut – less aimless, then, as the fingertip circles round and round, where the skin is sensitive already, but now, it's too fucking much. His breath escapes him in a whoosh, and he lazes against Nines, lets him support his weight, as Nines pinches that nipple, twisting it, just to see how Gavin reacts – he jolts against Nines, that's what he does, letting out that loud sort of moan that makes him blush all over, it's so hot and too damn needy. Still, the attention feels pretty fucking heavenly, like, Gavin definitely wouldn't say no to more.

He smiles at Nines. Sucks at his own upper lip. 'Hey, no hard feelings, right?'

'I… I'm sorry?' Nines tilts his head so he exhales against the slight bump he'd left on Gavin's head. 'I didn't know what else to do, to stop myself. I had to stop you, but I hadn't meant to… like that. I miscalculated,' he admits, as if it's the most shameful thing in the world.

Gavin nods, not really minding. He took some ibuprofen, the headache won't last forever, and it's not like he hasn't had worse. But also, he really needs to pay better attention to what's going on – how Nines is blushing, and Connor's blushing more, and Gavin's hot, he's hard, he's gonna get _fucked_. Their LEDs are freaking out, and sure, that right there is a dead giveaway that something is seriously _wrong_. Connor's hair is mussed up, too, Gavin just hadn't noticed it earlier. And there are marks on Connor's neck, where the synthskin has faded out, leaving broken little patches in its wake.

Gavin lets out a softer moan, though, as Nines draws him close, tilting his head up, kissing him. Yeah, this is it, this is what Gavin needs. This he can work with. Connor takes over toying with his nipples, and this must be that miracle of technology that everybody's been ranting about for the last twenty or so years. Well, probably not, but Connor twists one and lowers his mouth down to suck at the other. Laps, and licks, and bites, and Gavin moans into Nines's mouth, as Nines's tongue continues its pleasant assault into his.

Connor stops, and Gavin makes a noise that was probably a whine, but it's all muffled by Nines's mouth on his. His breath is cool as he blows against the slick, damp skin. 'You're okay with this, then?'

Gavin tries to nod but Nines is holding onto his face and he's kissing him like he doesn't plan to stop. He only does when it's gone past too much, when Gavin's lungs are ready to burst, he's about to start choking. The nod is enough because Connor – yeah, that's Connor – kisses at his neck. His lips trail over flushed skin and Gavin shudders, then moans, when Connor bites down, all teeth.

Then, as Gavin lets out a choked out groan of sheer unadulterated lust, Connor lets out a soft huff, and Gavin is vaguely aware of him taking the gun from where he'd tucked it away, saying something about him not needing this right now and that Connor will put it somewhere safe. All Gavin's lust-wracked brain can make out of that is that Connor has stopped kissing him all over – and it would have bothered him more, if Nines wasn't there, picking up Connor's slack.

And yeah, Gavin moans at that, too, just hoping he can survive long enough, that his legs don't end up giving out. Nines, he _moans_ , he's never fucking moaned, Gavin would have noticed that, okay. Committed it to fucking memory, the sound is close to sinful. Gavin's legs didn't get that previous memo, though, and he can tell they're in the process of turning to jelly beneath him. He doesn't want this to stop, he really is ready to climb Nines like he was a fucking tree. But stop, yeah, that's just what Nines does, and Gavin lets out a whimper.

'Oh, fuck me,' Gavin groans, mentally lazing into that fog of lightheaded lust that's absolutely taken over his higher functions. 'Just fuck me, please.'

Nines strokes his cheek with one hand, touches his lips with the other. Just seems to not be able to get enough of it, just _touching_ Gavin, and yeah, Gavin's just fucking eating it up. 'We will, Detective, that was… the whole point… of us coming here, after all.'

Gavin picks his head back up and oh, fuck, Nines is still looking at him, still super intense. Fuck extra, that's the look of an android that's ready to eat a man alive, and androids don't _eat_. Gavin lets out a nervous giggle, but hell, he's ready for this, he is.

'Perhaps we ought to move this to the bedroom?' Connor says. Oh, he's back. Gavin smiles at him, really just smiles at him. All carefree, all, I'm gonna get fucked and it's gonna be the best night of my life. And he's still sore from Mr Nameless giving him that pounding. Yeah, this is gonna be better, Gavin's got no doubt in his mind.

'Yeah, uh, it's this way?'

Nines actually picks him up and Gavin lets out a nervous little yelp that turns into more nervous laughter as Connor goes looking for his bedroom (it's not like it was actually hard to find). Jesus fucking Christ, this is unexpected as hell – for the second time in as many days, the whole world kind of gets tilted on its side. Nines drops him down onto the bed and then _swoops_ down on him, pinning his wrists back against the mattress with just one of his own. Fuck yeah, Gavin likes that, he lives for it – so Nines is feeling pretty dominant and Gavin is into it, he's ready to take whatever Nines has to give (there's a whole fucking essay he could write about how he can _give_ just as good as he can take, but wrong time, wrong place, he can wow Nines with it all later on, if Nines wants). So, Gavin wriggles his hips, tries to grind up against Nines, relieve some sort of friction because his neglected dick is fucking aching. But Nines is too far away from him, and his eyes are so fucking dark.

Gavin starts to say something but _stops_ , biting down on his bottom lip as Nines squeezes his wrists, using his free hand to shove Gavin's boxers down and then his hand is on Gavin's dick. Warm, a little too hot, actually. As smooth and firm and as perfect as Connor's hand had been, only hey, it's Nines. So that makes it intrinsically better.

'Oh fucking hell – ' He bucks into it, a little helplessly, and Connor climbs up to sit beside them, quickly stripping out of his clothes. Gavin lets out a frustrated groan, still trying to push up into Nines's hand but the way Nines has Gavin's legs spread out wide, using his own to keep them where he wants to, Gavin is lacking any sort of proper leverage. He's helpless, and he's hard, and there's such a mess of pre-come sliding down his dick, getting all over Nines's perfect, long-fingered hand.

And that's hot, God, Gavin needs more, ASAP. All of it.

All Gavin can do is nod, and give the both of them a dopey little smile as Connor's hand wraps around his dick as well, right above Nines's. Connor's thumb rubs at the tip, presses into the slit. Gavin lets out a few more ragged moans, ah Jesus, this is too much and it's just right. 'Uh, fuck, yeah,' Gavin mutters, trying once again to buck into their grip. No such fucking luck, and he actually whines. Again. This night is just full of new personal lows.

'Please, come on, let's do this. Alright?' Maybe this horny on main sex virus is fucking everything up, but Gavin's ready to get fucked up, whatever. And sure, fucking your partner and his almost identical twin, that's probably just setting some new high when it comes to "wow that's a bad fucking idea!" – but fuck, they already know Gavin wants Nines to ruin him, of course they fucking know. It's not like Nines would ever want the same back in return. 'I'm down with whatever, okay? Just fuck me up, alright?'

Nines lets go of Gavin's wrists – though Connor goes to immediate replace him, still pinning Gavin in place, but he's also petting a hand through Gavin's hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp, and yeah, Gavin is kind of too sensitive all over and that feels like fucking heaven. Nines shoves himself back some, and his hand is back on Gavin's dick, squeezing down at the base and scrunched into his damp pubes as Nines holds him steady. Nines's mouth, it turns out, is way fucking better than his hand. Gavin lets out an absolutely wrecked-sounding moan as Nines swallows him and, and yeah, he tries to thrust right up into it, as Connor continues to pet his hair. 'You can fuck his mouth, Detective Reed – his throat can take it.'

'Uh, okay?' And Gavin does, a little dizzy, more and more delirious. Working up a sweat as he thrusts up and up and up, his hips are seriously starting to fucking ache. Everything is kind of buried beneath this super pleasant, and oddly dull, fog. Like he needs to keep working harder to feel anything at all, but he's just so fucking sensitive, he _feels_ it, you know.

'He wants you, Gavin.' Fuck, Connor's almost purring. 'He wants you so badly.'

Oh fucking hell, Gavin can't take this. Well, he can, gritting his teeth and thrusting up into Nines's mouth. It's a little shallow, but it's a little perfect, too. Warm and wet, and oh fuck, more than just a little slick. And his hands, where he's holding onto Gavin, they're shaking. He's a wreck, too, and this – whatever this is – he really does want Gavin, for real?

Connor leans down, which means he's no longer petting his hand through Gavin's hair. Kisses Gavin, all soft, and slow, which is the perfect sort of counterpoint to the wreck Gavin's making of Nines's mouth – though honestly Nines is the one who's making a wreck out of him.

'We've been… restraining ourselves. Nines, particularly, hates that he feels so out of control. We both thank you for your cooperation in this situation, Detective Reed. It… we need this… thank you,' he mutters it again.

Gavin growls at Connor, out of breath so there's no actual words. Then Nines is pulling up off of Gavin's dick, and some of the fog – just a fucking bit – rolls back, and Gavin can almost think. It's still pretty hazy, he's sure as fuck is hot, and there's that dull-sharp thing going on, as well, and Gavin's heart hammers against his chest.

Connor smiles down at him, and places a hand on Gavin's arm, drawing him along. Lets go, and Gavin props himself up on an arm, gazes down at him. He lets his legs loll open, one of them canted to the side. Gavin finds himself a little bit distracted by the glimmer of something slick looking pretty much drenching his thighs. 'What the hell is that? Why are you so fucking _wet_?'

Connor was blushing already, but now he's close to burning up. 'My anal passage is self-lubricating, and the virus has caused some of its protocols to malfunction. It won't stop leaking,' he mutters.

'Uh, sorry,' Gavin gawks at him, sliding two fingers through the slick on Connor's wet thigh. 'What was that?'

'I said, my anal passage is—oh _fuck_ ,' and Connor jolts when Gavin presses those fingers against his too slick hole – it really is dripping, fuck.

Connor pushes up on his elbows, his eyes shut tightly, lips parted on a moan. Gavin watches Connor's face as he pushes two fingers in, deep, twists them around as he pokes and prods. As Nines's hand alights on his flank, and slides down his side. Presses hot divots at his hip, clutching him tight. Lips, brushing at his neck, and Gavin shudders, letting his eyes slip shut.

'Be nice,' Nines breathes out, a warning, and then he bites down, hard. Gavin yelps, but fuck, it feels so good and he's close to melting, or screaming, or maybe just coming on the spot. Okay... not that, not just yet.

And Connor, he's hot and wet and _tight_ , squeezing around Gavin's fingers the way he's going to be squeezing around his dick. Gavin pumps in as deep as he can, twisting his fingers around and then crooking them, to apply a little more pressure. Nines licks at the spot he'd bitten, kissing it, gently almost. Gavin's just watching, enraptured as Connor shudders, moans.

But Connor bites out, fire in his voice, 'I don't need that, just do it, _please_. Nines is waiting.'

'So fucking bossy,' Gavin snaps, but he moves to do as he's been told. He kneels between Connor's legs, and Connor gives him a soft smile as he slides a leg up to hook over a hip. All this meant, of course, was that Gavin had to pull away from Nines. But he gives Nines a _look_ , and a lopsided grin, even as he moistens his lips, inhaling quickly. The way Nines's hand lingers on him, it's fucking proprietary as fuck. Nines is waiting. Nines wants him. Gavin doesn't know if any of this is real, but fuck, it sure as hell feels like it's real. Too real, too vivid, too sharp. Gavin wants Nines, too.

But still, it's a little… much. So his voice cracks, a little, as he says, 'There's lube in the bedside table, you aren't doing this dry.'

Nines nods, and hops to it, quickly. Gavin runs his hands up and down Connor's leg, then leans into it, bracing himself as he snaps his hips, and pushes right in. Feels his head hanging low, he's so fucking out of himself. Gavin noses at the column of Connor's throat, teeth grazing at the synthskin as Connor shudders, and he bit down hard a few times just to see if he can make some of the same marks that Nines had left on him, before. Connor slides that leg of his up over his hip, the heel of his foot digging in at the small of Gavin's back. Gavin draws back, just a little, smiling at the fresh marks he'd left on that soft, pale skin.

And oh fucking hell, he was just as tight as Gavin's already been expecting – but the reality of it is so much better than two measly fingers of if, that's for fucking sure. Gavin lets out a low groan and it gets a little fuzzy, all along the edges, as he proceeds to fuck into Connor without any sort of concern.

And it's hard, ah, _fuck_ , it really is hard to think, all the fuck over again. Logic keeps on trying to push its way back into Gavin's brain, when all he feels right now is need, and heat – but no wonder Nines got so fucking spooked, was sending him so many mixed signals, tried fucking him in an alley way and ended up knocking him out. This virus had been on the back burner the whole entire time, fucking things up. Just how much of this was real? Did Nines even – 

Nines sets a hand on Gavin's back, and Gavin stops mid-thrust, braces himself. He stops thinking about whatever he'd just been thinking about, just like that. Instead, he just turns to look back over his shoulder, as Connor whines, squeezing around him. God, Gavin is hazy as absolute fuck, but it feels good so he's not gonna complain about it, and maybe his ass has already taken a pounding, but he can handle this, too. Nines leans over to kiss him, briefly, but hard, demanding, easily sucking the breath out of Gavin's lungs. And he pulls away, and hell, Gavin follows after him, blinking slowly, licking at his lips to try and get another taste of Nines. He wants more, it's never going to be enough.

'Detective Reed, _please_.' Connor grinds his heel down hard into Gavin's back, and Gavin's attention snaps back round because fuck, Connor's heel is sharp as hell. Gavin spreads his legs a little wider, because he knows what's coming, fucking into Connor and trying to find the right pace.

There's no rhyme to it, he just can't manage it, and he lets out a sharp breath right against the place that's sculpted to look like Connor's clavicle or is that just the way his synthskin works? 'Oh Jesus fuck, _Nines_.'

Nines is squeezing his thigh with one hand, spreading his ass wide with the other. Gavin's just thankful that Nines has a superior sense of balance because this could get messy, quick. Connor's begging him, now, 'Don't stop, please, I need this, I need you, _please_.' He sounds so fucking high on it, and Gavin can't help himself, he's a little high on it too. The part of him that knows he should nope on out of this had shut the fuck up a long time ago, and Gavin's ready to ride this to whatever end may come. Connor's skin is so soft, so _hot_ , and he's just so fucking _tight_. The wet squelching noises that Gavin's dick makes as he fucks into all that sloppy slickness borders on obscene.

Those thrusts of his get all the more shallow as Nines's hands are back on his ass again, good, only it's both of them, and instead of the cold trickle of lube it's the warmer flick of—oh fuck, is that Nines's tongue? It's a little… wow. Gavin tells his lungs to behave, to breathe in, and out, steadily. It's all so damn sensitive, and he's glad that shitty (yet still effective) hookup of his had been convinced to wear a condom. Nines isn't having to deal with the remnants of some random dude's sloppy seconds, it's kind of fucking perfect. So perfect, Gavin clamps down on his bottom lip and Connor _whines_ as he lifts his other leg up and goes about yanking Gavin deeper, but Nines really isn't having any of that, because Nines is holding onto him, too. And Gavin is trying, he really is, but between the way that Connor's squeezing around his dick and the way that Nines is licking into his ass, there's really only so fucking much he can take.

But Nines makes him take it, and the arm that Gavin was holding himself up with, fuck, it's trembling, it's ready to give out. He collapses rather messily atop Connor and Connor grunts, then moans, and tangles a hand in Gavin's hair to yank his head back down, he's not playing around. Kissing, kissing is nice, Gavin is such a big fan of it, especially when he's being fucked, well, he's about to get fucked, and he's still sunk into Connor's ass, it's wrapped so perfectly around him, fits his dick like some sort of glove. And it's not like Connor is just passively taking it, no, he's jerking his hips right up into it as best as he can, pretty much slamming into Gavin each time Gavin slams into him.

It really doesn't happen all that often, does it – kissing while he's getting fucked, that is – because Gavin's personality is pretty toxic and no one ever wants to get that close to him, and his line of random hookups, they're just using each other and then when one or the both of them has come, they leave. But Nines, it could – it could be so much more than that, right? And Connor, Gavin doesn't know what to think about Connor. It… maybe – it's the virus, it's got to be the virus. Because if Gavin ends up catching feels in the middle of this fucking fiasco, he's going to sue.

The sounds that Nines's tongue is making, so wet and lewd and loud, but soft, too? And it's driving Gavin fucking mad – he just wants Nines to be in him, already, and while his tongue is a miracle worker, it's also not nearly enough. Gavin tries shoving his ass backwards, just to get the point across. Breaks away from Connor's mouth, shaking all over. 'Come on, Nines, fuck me, just fuck me, please?'

Nines's fingers press fresh marks into Gavin's thigh, right beneath the curve of his ass, and then Nines is pulling off and oh great, now Gavin can breathe. Through his nose, anyway, since Connor's just yanked him back down to reoccupy himself with Gavin's mouth. Nines pulls Gavin back, out of Connor, and Connor whines at the sudden departure as Nines flips Gavin onto his back. 'What the—ohhhh, fuck.' He curves into it as Nines's fingers, cold and slick, press into his ass, already loosened up from all that attention from his tongue. And Nines is still just shaking all over, his LED this bright horrible red.

'Nines, no, I wasn't _finished_ yet,' Connor fucking pouts. 'This isn't fair.'

Gavin's head lolls back and Nines's twists his fingers, deep, only then he shifts a little and he's pressing against Gavin's prostate, and Gavin's seeing stars. He yelps but it turns into a moan, and Nines's hair tickles at Gavin's shoulder as he leans his head down low. 'Connor, please,' Nines groans, like it's hard for him to speak, a little stilted, a whole lot of static. 'Patience.'

Connor sighs softly, but it's petulant as hell, and he shifts a little closer, petting his hands through Gavin's tousled hair. 'Alright.' He smiles down at Gavin, those hot fingertips of his sliding over his face. Gavin's mouth drops open as he moans, his whole body jolting. Nines's fingers have left the building, but Nines's hands are squeezing at his legs and shoving them backwards, and he's shoving back in with something that's much more _thick_.

Connor hums, his eyes half-closed as he smiles. 'Look, Gavin, you're being so good.' Gavin shivers, whimpering, and Connor's smile just seems to brighten, running a finger over Gavin's trembling lips. 'Oh, you like that, don't you? You want to be good.'

Gavin does, he really does, if this is the net reward, Nines pushing into him and almost lifting him up off the bed with each cycle of his hips, so fucking hard and demanding, rattling down to the depths of Gavin's bones. There's gonna be bruises all over his legs and really, all Gavin can do right now is _feel_ , and it's the best thing ever, where's the fucking lie?

Nines is bent so low, thrusts hard and sharp and _deep_ , and Gavin's still seeing stars, and his breath catches in his throat.

'Nines, come _on_ ,' Connor snaps, and Gavin cracks an eye open. Connor's rubbing at his thighs, and Nines draws back and oh, hell, he still doesn't feel like he can breathe. Only now there's room for Connor to climb right on top of him, which is… great, but also probably not, because Gavin's really not so sure how much he can take. But Connor slides back down on his dick with a loud, equally obscene squelch, and Gavin gets his arms to work again, hands clamping down at Connor's hips as Connor plants both his hands against Gavin's chest and just fucking _rides_ him, there's no mercy here and Gavin wouldn't want it, even if it was offered. Anyhow, with Nines pounding him and Connor riding him, oh Jesus fucking fuck, he won't be lasting long.

Nines shudders as he lets out a low, static-sharp whine, pumping into Gavin as he comes – and fuck, Gavin feels it, Nines filling him up, there's just so much of the stuff. Those fingers that had been gripping at him, digging into his skin and leaving a scattering of fresh, kind of brutal marks. Connor drops down and Nines's gets a hold on Gavin's ass, jerking him up into it, and hell, Gavin can't hold onto it anymore, no, he's fucked out and he's fucking dazed. Gavin digs at Connor's perfect skin with his bitten off nails, notices how the synth-stuff flickers in and out in all the places they're touching, marks, yeah, he wants to leave more marks. Then he's coming and Connor's coming, too, all over his chest, and it kind of feels like Gavin's been hit with a bus if being hit with a bus was supposed to feel good. He wipes a hand across his face, hell, there was even a bit of splatter on his cheek. And then he just kind of crashes, immediately, like a battery that's lost its charge.

'Fuck,' he groans, letting his head drop back, just sinking into – he's limp, he doesn't want to move, but Nines hasn't moved either, he's still buried inside Gavin, still incredibly hard. Breathe, Gavin, breathe, he tells himself, and he tries to, he really does, with a few nervous giggles, because why the hell not? Connor lifts a leg up and then slides off of him, tumbling down onto the bed with a low, static-filled groan. Gavin's eyes roll back in his head, and Nines _squeezes_ him. He leans down, presses in so close, sweat and semen all slick and messy between their bodies. Nines noses at Gavin's throat, licking the sweat from his skin, shuddering as he nips at the spot he'd already bitten, and God, _fuck_.

Gavin groans, raggedly now, as Nines's hips start moving, pulling out almost all the way before steadily pushing back in. Gavin's probably about to fucking die, and Nines is fucking back into him, all meltingly hot, slow and steady, and Gavin's heart lurches in his chest.

'Not finished yet?' he mumbles. And he still feels it all over, the haze of lust and need, but he's tired, so fucking tired – he's only human, after all. 'Don't know how responsive I'm gonna be, but do whatever, okay?'

Fingers, not Nines's, touch his cheek, drag through his stubble, a little unsure, hesitant and yet… a little fond? 'Are you aware enough for me to use your mouth?'

'Mhmm,' he sighs, not that he really even _knows_. Good guy Connor, making sure it's okay before he starts fucking Gavin's mouth. Even if they're all fucked up with this virus, they'll probably still be monitoring his vitals, right? Because they're creepy androids, after all.

Well, there's worse ways to die.

'I _want_ ,' Nines groans, and his voice goes all crackly. Whatever this is, it's taking a more of a toll on him but Gavin doesn't understand any of what's going on, really, so he doesn't get that, in specific. Gavin just nods a little, half a second away from being completely blissed out. Nines just keeps _moving_ , and Gavin's feeling way too much.

So he drawls, out of his head, 'Yeah, whatever you want, it's yours.'

Connor props Gavin's head up with a pillow, to make it a little easier – keeps a hand under his jaw to support him as he slides his dick into Gavin's slack, but willing, mouth. He tries to be as active as he can, licking at Connor's dick to get things wetter, hollowing his cheeks as best he can just to give Connor something more fun to fuck into than an empty fucking hole. Still licking at him, until the drool is dripping out of his mouth. And Connor's hand is cradling the back of his head, like, it's kind of tender but it's not really needed.

And whatever havoc the virus has been having on Nines's systems, it's kind of like it's giving him a break. Or something? He's pushing into Gavin a lot more cautiously now, drawing out each thrust until he bottoms out all the way. Gavin groans, eyes closed but the lashes flickering. He worries he might end up choking, but Connor's gentle with him and his head gets angled up a little bit more.

He comes, after however much time ends up passing, like, Gavin can't actually connect the dots. He swallows down Connor's release, and soft lips – Connor's probably, at that angle – brush across his mouth. 'You've been so good for us, Gavin. Thank you.' Yep, definitely Connor.

Gavin shivers, feels the air shift around him as Connor pulls away. And he groans, as Nines pulls out all the way, but pushes back in after rearranging himself, some. He shifts Gavin's legs up over his shoulders, and fuck, it's intense, and the burning raw strain on the backs of his thighs goes from zero to sixty in two seconds flat. Gavin keeps on making those needy little noises, and he's kind of aware of the bed shifting. But all that really matters is Nines, leaning down and planting his hands to the sides of Gavin's chest and oh. Shit. Now it's getting real.

Gavin cracks his eyes open, and he inhales so quickly it stings. Nines is right there, his hair swaying about as he snaps his hips and drives on into Gavin's body. Gavin opens his mouth to say something, but all he can do is moan. He gets a burst of energy, there's no telling where it comes from, but Nines is _there_ , his eyes half-closed and his mouth parted as he takes unnecessary breaths. And he's so fucking pretty, Gavin's heart hurts. Gavin's so out of himself he wants to take back every single nasty thing he's ever said, but no, no, Nines has almost always given back as good as he gets.

His arm aches as he makes it move, everything kind of aches, actually, but it's a pleasant sort of burn, there's no complaint. His hand's a little sweaty and it slips as he tries to get a grip at the nape of Nines's neck, but he tangles his hand in Nines's hair instead, and that? Yeah, that works. Soft fuck it's so _soft_ , Gavin always knew it would be soft.

'Kiss me,' he slurs his words, demands, and Nines's eyes snap open, so pale but so intense. That next thrust of his is agonizingly slow, but Nines lowers Gavin's legs some so they're settled at his waist, which changes the angle of everything but allows Nines to drop down close.

And he kisses Gavin, licks into his mouth and pushes in, deep. But it's fragile, too, like there's something so incredibly tentative going on, right now, if the wrong thing were to happen, everything would snap.

But it doesn't, Gavin somehow holds it together, but it's close, so close, they both hold it together. It's probably some sort of miracle, but Gavin's eyes are stinging, hot with unshed tears. Nines keeps pumping into him, harder, but slower, then deeper, and shallow, rubbing at his prostate. Gavin breaks away from Nines's mouth to suck in needed breath, head lolling backwards and sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. Each thrust rocks through him and Nines is bent so close, Gavin's dick is slipping and sliding against his stomach, leaving a slick mess behind. Gavin's sure he can't take too much more of this, but those shallow little thrusts of Nines's are hitting him in just the right spot. A little brutal in his accuracy, but a little too perfect as well. Gavin's hand slips out of Nines's hair and he tries to make a point, letting out a whining moan as he drags his nails down Nines's back.

Nines's shudders, breath ghosting at Gavin's chin. The soft brush of his lips, the way his mouth wraps around one single word: 'Gavin.' A little too reverent, it's definitely too much. Gavin tries pulling his legs up, to squeeze at the backs of Nines's thighs. To drive him in harder, deeper, but his visions starting to black out and –

One of those tears, it trickles down his cheeks, takes its fucking time, and of course Nines would lick it, his tongue so soft and warm and wet. The cry that escapes Gavin, then, it threatens to rip him apart. Gavin feels the tight burn building up through him, but the orgasm still hits him unexpectedly, like, he couldn't have possibly been prepared. Too long a burn, too much of a release. He's falling into, well, into _something_ , he doesn't actually know what. Nines comes with a sharp groan after pumping into Gavin just a couple more times, and Gavin grunts softly, Nines is filling him up all over again. Doesn't immediately move, either, as Gavin struggles to keep his eyes open. And yeah, does he ever fucking fail.

Gavin's legs start to slip downwards. He can't actually manage to open his eyes, and he's so fucking sore, it's the best feeling in the world. He needs to… wince, and groan, as Nines pulls out of him. There's a rush of Nines's release dribbling out of him, that's… hot, whatever, he kind of feels like laughing. God, he can give back just as good as he's given, Nines isn't the only one. Nines… Nines just needs to give him a chance.

Nines settles down beside him, and Gavin turns his head into it, tries to relax, as Nines's arms come to wrap around him, holding him tight. Lips brush at the corner of Gavin's eye, soft as anything. And Gavin's still coming down from whatever, so yeah, whatever this is, it's alright.

–  
–

Gavin wakes some indeterminate time later, coming to slowly. He's propped against something soft and warm, a chest that's gently rising and falling. He blinks a few times, head lolling to the side. Nuzzling at the crook of Nines's neck, he remembers where he's at, who he's with.

All fucked out, tired as hell.

The arm that Nines has draped across him, tightens. Nines's fingers are making lazy patterns at his hip, moving back and forth slowly, sliding down the curve of his back. Nines is humming, softly, but it's not like a real hum – it's a little too electric, kind of like a buzzing that's radiating out from his chest, nothing at all like that buzzing deep down in his ears from before. And there's the steady beating of Nines's thirium pump, tempo and pitch.

Gavin lets out a tired sigh, lips brushing at Nines's smooth jaw. Gavin's brain is feeling a little foggy, he can't really remember the last however long as well as he'd like, but there's hot little memories sliding about like islands in the mist. Nines's hands, Nines thrusting into him, Nines kissing him, Nines, Nines, _Nines_ …

Gavin lets out a low groan, trying to sit up. Nines loosens his hold but doesn't actually let go, and the imprint of his skin, it's so warm against Gavin's. Gavin sits there and tries to figure out… whatever. 'I need to do a few things, but I'll be back.'

Nines nods, he feels the movement of it rather than see it. His fingers drag backwards, and there's… something there, Gavin's head is too heavy and the rest of him too sore to really parse what it means. Could just be, it means nothing at all, and Nines has finally gotten a handle on being deviant.

As Gavin goes to move, only Nines hasn't let go of him. 'You have… a tattoo?' His fingers slide at the ink across Gavin's left shoulder, and yeah, Gavin tries to turn his head to look back at him because fucking sue him, he's dying to see the look on Nines's face. Because the soft way his fingertips are tracing from one point to another, up further and along his back, it's too damn gentle. Gavin ends up going through all that effort, and then he just gives up, his neck is starting to ache, and he turns his head away.

'Yeah, a couple. There's a spade on my right shoulder, not the garden tool, the card suit, you know?' Nines can be an ass when he puts those impressive processors of his to it, so in Gavin's estimation, it's good to cover all your bases. 'Got it when I turned eighteen, just because I could.'

'And this here, on your back?'

Gavin shivers, because the way Nines is touching him, it's still so gentle, so curious. His fingers slide lower, that's outside the boundaries of the tattoo, but Gavin's not actually about to complain. 'Uh, well, it was my tenth anniversary at the DPD and I wasn't dead yet, I felt like getting a little something in celebration of the fact.'

'Oh.' Just _oh_? 'I… I like it.' Another shiver, as Nines presses a little more firmly, and yeah, that's it, that's too much, Gavin's head is starting to spin.

He shoves himself forward and winces as he slides out of bed, the floor is ice cold and the rest of his body still feels pretty much like crap. There are some clothes draped over the chair in the one corner, so he grabs a loose pair of sweats and pulls them on. He'll worry about showering in the morning, he's already aware he's such a fucking _mess_. His throat is dry, and while drinking out of the bathroom tap is tempting, he's just very well fucked, not stupidly drunk.

Gavin stands in the kitchen with a bottle of water in hand, door to the fridge closed. Flapjack meows very softly, and Gavin crouches down to pet a hand through his soft fur as he drinks the water down.

'You're a good cat,' he says, as Flapjack nuzzles against his hand. Gavin smiles at him, the patch of white on his face with its scattered specks of black.

He goes back to the bedroom, and Nines is still there, though now he's sitting up in bed, only halfway covered by the sheets and the edge of the covers, as if Gavin could ever possibly forget how Nines was still very, very naked. Gavin shoves that aside and climbs right back up into bed, and – they should talk about this, he knows they should talk about it – but he's a little too tired to start what might end up being a full on feels reveal. He's bound to fuck it all up.

'Going to sleep now,' he says, laying down and facing away from Nines as he uses one hand to pull the blanket up to about mid-waist, because… well, just because, he's pretty much as far away from the android as he can be without actually getting out of bed. 'You can… let yourself out, or stay, or… whatever. I don't care.'

Maybe he should act like he cares more than he currently _isn't_ , because – _because_ , it's still just because. But the enormity of the possibilities that are presenting themselves are all a little too much for Gavin to handle right now, when… when this is… he doesn't actually know what it is, that's the thing, and he's tired and why is he still thinking? Because either this could be the beginning of something or it could be absolutely nothing. And he needs to stop.

He's an exhausted mess and he needs to get some sleep.

'Very well, Gavin.' He's never given it the thought it deserves, but he likes it when Nines says his name. 'Try to get some rest?' Gavin knows there's work tomorrow, well, later today.

'You too,' he manages. Do androids even sleep?

He feels Nines settle down into the bed behind him, and the covers get pulled up the rest of the way, he's tucked in nice and warm. Nines is warm at his back, his arm is heavy where it holds Gavin close. Gavin lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes, because this is pretty much perfect, he's not about to lie. There's a soft click, somewhere in the distance, as Nines interacts directly with the apartment's electronics network and shuts off the lights,m. The darkness is sudden, inky thick, thank you blackout curtains. Usually, Gavin's left alone in the dark with his thoughts, not including the cat. Tonight, he feels the thump when Flapjack uses the blanket to haul himself up onto the bed. Nines makes a surprised sound, but so does Flapjack. Nines stays where he is, Flapjack settles to the north of the pillows.

'That's Flapjack,' Gavin says by way of explanation, because he can't actually remember if they've been properly introduced. 'Nines, Flapjack. Flapjack, Nines.'

'It's a pleasure,' Nines murmurs.

Maybe Nines is as out of it as he is, Gavin can't even imagine the stress he's been under, a literal _sex virus_ what the fuck is going on. There's a lot more small talk he could make. Speaking of small talk, it's not like Gavin's about to judge him for talking to his cat – Gavin himself does that all the time, it's not even kind of weird.

With a soft sigh, Gavin closes his eyes. Nines tightens his hold. Gavin holds his breath.

Yeah, they'll talk about it in the morning, whatever. Right now, sleep.

–  
–

It's awful, completely fucking awful, waking up in the morning, waking up alone. Gavin knows he shouldn't have expected anything else, when he couldn't even give it to Nines straight, of course he'd fucking wanted him to stay. Gavin's self aware enough to know that it's nobody's fault but his own, isn't it always? It's what his past is littered with, after all, the ruins of one major fuck up another. Because he said too much, or he said too little. Time after time, it didn't matter. Whatever he was saying, he wasn't saying the right thing.

And his head? Yeah, it's kind of still aching. His ass? Yeah, it's still sore as fuck. And his heart, that miserable little shithead? Not even mentioning that motherfucker, it doesn't even matter. It's just the way things are meant to be, he doesn't deserve anything good. Never has, never will. 

Maybe Gavin's a fucking idiot for thinking this might have been the start of something different with Nines, for letting his guard down so his heart could be ripped out of his chest (God, he's such a fucking joke). Which, even that was stupid. It was an actual _sex virus_. They fucked because it was very literally a matter of life and death, and the androids hadn't wanted to go to a tech to get it sorted out. Because how fucking embarrassing would that have been, right? So they'd used each other, and each of them had gotten something that they wanted. Gavin is getting worked up over nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Sure, there's a tiny ass piece of him thinking he's got it all wrong. Nines isn't in bed because he's out there burning his first attempt at a human breakfast, or making some coffee, or, or, _anything_ , anything other than him being gone. Gavin doesn't even check to know he's wrong, he's always wrong. Wrong, a fucking idiot, useless, no one needs him, no one ever wants to be with him. No one's _ever_ wanted to be with him. Once Nines finds out how worked up Gavin's gotten over nothing, he's going to laugh. And laugh some more. He'll be the laughing stock of the station which Gavin knows isn't right. Why would Nines want anyone to know he had to stoop to having sex with _Gavin_?

So, Gavin doesn't sit around and mope, or cry his eyes out, or _scream_ , what's the point of doing any of that? He takes a shower, and he eats some cereal while the coffee brews, and then he pets his cat, who (like fucking always) doesn't seem to know what's going on. But that's okay, Flapjack might not be blessed in the brains department, but he excels when it comes to looks. Knows just how to make Gavin feel better, and he's a cat, it's not like he's got to _try_.

And Gavin? Is busy putting his game plan together. What exactly does it call for? Repression 101, he'll bury it all deep, bury it and ignore it until it's gone, gone, _gone_. It doesn't take much, he's an old pro at acting like he doesn't actually care what people think. He's gotten his act together, he swallows down some more coffee. He's already ready to see Nines, it's gonna be fine. Like it always is, right?

Why the fuck is he always lying? It still fucking counts, even when he's just lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it says in the tags, I do plan on writing a sequel, so, maybe that's going to happen one of these days! I know there's some stuff here that seems like it hasn't been dealt with yet, and at least a few of those things are likely to pop up in future stories!


End file.
